Those Who Cannot Remember
by Chlorine Trifluoride
Summary: You'd think that attitudes would start changing in the enlightened era after the defeat of Voldemort. Except they really don't. Inevitably, even those who break the mold end up reverting back to the old ways in some form or another. Rated for later AS/S.
1. 01 September, 2017

AN: I don't typically write for this fandom. Usually, I'm just content to read and lurk. However, after I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2 and decided to go on a fanfic binge with one of my friends, this rabid plot bunny jumped up and bit me. So now I'm here, writing this thing out. Oh, and in case you didn't read the summary, this story will contain (possibly explicit) slash. (That's probably why you're here.) I may or may not up the rating on this in the future. Surprisingly enough, there's going to be a plot in between the sex, so if you're only here for the boning, check back in ten or so chapters.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would be rich enough to have a yacht full of extremely attractive models. Consequently, I would be on my yacht instead of here. I apologize deeply to J. K. Rowling for whatever I decide to do with her characters.

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><p><em>"Too often we under estimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around." – Leo Buscaglia<em>

Those Who Cannot Remember, chapter one: 01 September, 2017

King's Cross was always a flurry of activity on the first of September. Students rushed onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to reserve seats for friends and to exchange greetings and predictions about the upcoming school year at Hogwarts. It was a joyous occasion, a celebration of returning to one's home away from home, at least for the upperclassmen. For the first years, it was an opportunity to gape at new, interesting surroundings.

People laughed and giggled onto the Hogwarts Express in groups of twos and threes, but not Scorpius. He found the compartment furthest away from everyone else and ducked into it, making sure it was absolutely empty before sitting down. The only people near him were outside, still separated from him by a window of enchanted glass.

Now he might have some respite from the stares, the whispers, and the pointed fingers that followed him around.

"_Hey, it's that Malfoy kid!"_

"_They're letting them into Hogwarts?"_

They were maddening. In Diagon Alley, people had rudely pushed past him without a second thought, but that was preferable to this. Solitude, in Scorpius's opinion, was infinitely better than negative attention. He wished he knew how to cast an Imperturbable Charm, but supposed that locking the door would have to be sufficient.

A group he recognized as the children of his father's friends walked past his compartment. He flattened himself up against the navy blue seats, trying to become as unnoticeable as possible.

_Back in August, during one of the small social gatherings in Malfoy manor, the adults had banished the children to the backyard and the Zabini girl had approached Scorpius. She was a rising third year at Hogwarts, slim, with a pretty face and skin the color of café au lait._

_"He tells interesting stories, y'know," she said, glancing in through the back window at Scorpius's father, Draco, who had drained his first glass of firewhiskey and already looked more jovial than Scorpius was used to seeing him. "Your father, I mean."_

_"I know," Scorpius replied._

_"About how him and father and Mr. Goyle and some other people used to be really good friends."_

_"I know."_

_"They had this little Slytherin gang going back then. Your father was kind of the leader."_

_"I know." Scorpius was becoming progressively more annoyed with Zabini and her idle chitchat._

_"Well, I just thought that since you're starting school in a few weeks, maybe you'd like to join up with us. Me, the Goyle twins, and a few more. We're by far the most powerful group in Slytherin house. Even sixth and seventh years don't bother us."_

_"I don't think so. Honestly, I'll be too busy studying to spend much time with all of you anyway."_

_It was a cop-out. Easier than admitting he couldn't stand them. In fact, Zabini might even buy it. Scorpius's academic potential was a highly abused bragging point of his father's._

He stared out the window as the train began to move, his entire life as a Slytherin already stretched out before him. Endless conversations about the blood status of various people, trying jinxes on other students. For seven years. His years of practice at concealing his emotions didn't quite stop the expression of horror that flitted across his features. None of them were particularly intelligent or engaging. His next few years would be previously unprecedented levels of boring.

"_We're by far the most powerful group in Slytherin House. Even sixth and seventh years don't bother us."_

That was the silver lining, at least if he took Zabini up on her offer. Nobody would ridicule him. That said, few outside the group would talk to him either. The children of former Death Eaters consolidating themselves into their own gang? Everyone else would avoid them like the plague.

But the alternative was to ignore Zabini, and to make this group of students his enemies. He couldn't exactly afford to do that.

"I'm in a terrible position," he muttered to no one in particular.

"You idiot, give it back!" A girl ran past the door to his compartment, nearly crashing into it, as she chased a boy about ten paces in front of her. Scorpius raised his arms defensively and twisted away from the door. But the pair never returned.

As his heart rate returned to normal, it occurred to him that he had an entire compartment to himself, in which to practice his Charms work. He extricated a button from his pocket and set it down on the seat beside him. Then, he removed his wand – cherry wood and unicorn tail hair – from inside the lining of his jacket.

He pointed his wand at the button and gave it an abbreviated jerk.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered. The button rose about half a foot into the air, haltingly, before ascending further. It wasn't an advanced spell, but he was fairly proud of himself. He doubted that many of the students had even practiced magic with their wands yet, or knew proper spells. Maybe he could make it touch the ceiling.

Just as he moved to try, he heard someone speak softly right outside the compartment door.

"Alohomora."

Scorpius had no time to react before a boy with bright green eyes and unkempt black hair so unlike his own practically jumped into the compartment, pushing the door shut and re-locking it before flattening himself against the adjacent seat.

"What're you –" Scorpius began, but the boy was quick to explain himself once he was adequately hidden.

"Sorry. I thought this one was empty. Didn't mean to mess up your spell work. I'm just trying to get away from my brother James and his friends – oh Merlin, here they come."

Sure enough, a gaggle of teenage boys, third years perhaps, were determinedly striding toward the door to Scorpius's compartment.

"Think I saw 'im this way. Oh, Albus…? Where are you…?" One boy, who bore more than a striking resemblance to the boy in front of Scorpius, grinned. He could see the backs of the group from the window.

Albus blanched. Scorpius shook his head. What an odd name. But not wholly uncommon in the post-war climate. He'd seen more "Harry"s, "Fred"s, "Remus"es and "Lily"s than he could easily count. He also strongly doubted any wizard would name their child Tom for at least the next five hundred years. Albus and James. Parents must be a bunch of Potter fanatics, then.

The older boy, Albus's brother James, was right in front of the door to the compartment, about to spell it open. Scorpius jumped out of his seat. This was just too much for him. Where did these people get off thinking they could just casually invade his privacy at the drop of a hat? No wonder Zabini and the others hated Gryffindors.

When James got the door open, he found himself face to face with a rather irate blond boy at least a full head shorter than he.

"What?" Scorpius demanded, in a tone that nearly made James jump. James looked down at the younger boy, the sleek blond hair, the silver eyes and the pointed chin and realized he must have been sorely mistaken if he'd thought his brother in this particular compartment.

"C'mon, it's a bleedin' Malfoy. There's no way Al'd be in there," one of James's friends said, having concluded the same thing.

"Right then. Sorry…" James let the door to the compartment slide shut and took off without another word.

When Scorpius returned, Albus was quietly reading through a Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and appeared to be completely nonplussed by the fact that he had just broken into and entered a locked compartment. Upon seeing that Scorpius had returned, Albus looked up and gave him a small smile.

"Thank you."

Scorpius narrowed his eyes and waved the words of gratitude off. Why didn't he leave him alone? Everyone left when they found out that he was a Malfoy. Why should Albus be any different?

It hadn't occurred to him yet that Albus had heard the exchange between him, James and James's friends.

"Aren't you going to leave now?" Scorpius asked. The boy across from him lowered his textbook and shrugged.

"Dunno. Y'want me to leave?"

Scorpius willed "Yes" to fall from his lips, and found that it was stuck somewhere between his throat and his mouth. If Albus stayed, he would be the first person his age – who wasn't an ignorant Muggle child at the park, or the spawn of one of Draco's friends – who voluntarily spent more than five minutes with him. It was an interesting prospect.

"Doesn't matter to me. I don't see why you'd want to stay," Scorpius answered, before resuming the experimentation on his button. Albus continued reading, and for the next hour or so, it was silent, except for the rustling of pages.

With great effort, Scorpius managed to turn the button into a blue daffodil, but couldn't quite get it to take on the correct, yellow color. Nor could he get it to feel less plastic. He opened his bag and looked for his Transfiguration textbook, hoping it would have something on the subject. As he rummaged through his things, he realized that Albus wasn't reading the first year Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. Far from it, as the tome in his hands looked much larger. Perhaps the boy was older than he'd initially concluded.

"What're you reading about, anyway?" Scorpius finally asked.

"A few hexes, like Impediamenta."

Now Scorpius was interested. Anyone who was reading up on hexes couldn't be a wholly bad individual. He hadn't quite heard everything the Albus had said though, as the train was growing louder as it hurtled through the English countryside.

"What year textbook is that?"

"What?" Albus couldn't hear him either. Scorpius got up and sat down next to him.

"That's not the first year textbook, is it?" Now that he was getting a better view of it, he was sure it couldn't be. The terms were far too advanced.

"No, it's the fifth. I'm a first year, though. My cousin Teddy gave me half his textbooks after he left school, thinking I'd appreciate them. They're wonderful." Albus gave Scorpius a wide smile, one which he surprisingly returned.

"D'you have the rest?"

"Most. My aunt put an extension charm on my trunk so I could fit them. Unfortunately, for me, it doesn't make the trunk any lighter. Do you want me to get them? We could read through a few."

"I'd like that a lot." Scorpius found himself smiling once again, until something occurred to him. "But wouldn't that mean you'd have to leave? Your trunk obviously isn't in here."

Albus grimaced sheepishly.

"Yeah, it's with my cousin, Rose, and her compartment's next to James's," He realized aloud. "Dunno if I really want to go back there, then."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Scorpius assured him. Albus looked extremely relieved.

"If you want, we can go through them after school starts. My father told me about the library at Hogwarts. Though if you don't mind my asking, why are you trying to avoid your brother so much?"

"He keeps making fun of me, saying I'm going to end up in Slytherin, since my initials spell asp, you know, the snake. I can't stand it."

Scorpius bristled involuntarily. Of course this boy wouldn't want to be in _Slytherin, _home of the Dark Arts and blood purists. No, somebody like him would obviously want to go into Gryffindor, full of valiant people who would gladly assemble themselves into cannon fodder for the forces of good. It made him sick. A pity, too, as he was starting to like Albus.

"What's so bad about Slytherin?"

Albus pondered this before answering, "I guess it's what you hear, how Voldemort was in it, and most of his followers were Slytherins. My brother keeps talking about how nasty they are. This girl, Aria Zabini, apparently hexed him straight into a suit of armor as he was leaving potions, once."

Scorpius tried not to laugh, even as he winced at Albus's use of the Dark Lord's name.

"Besides, if they put me in Slytherin, I think I'll be the first person in my family that wasn't in Gryffindor. You know about the house rivalries, right? I wouldn't want the rest of my family to be made my enemies."

Albus was babbling now.

"I think my father'll be disappointed. He won't let on, but he will be. And definitely, my uncle Ron will flip out. You're a Malfoy, right? Aren't you? Imagine if you ended up in Gryffindor, how your family would react."

"I'd prefer not to, thanks," Scorpius retorted drily. "I'm sure my father would cast an Unforgivable or two on me."

Albus managed a shadow of a laugh in return. They continued that way for a while, joking around and telling stories about their families, unaware of the passage of time. A few hours passed before Scorpius looked up as a group students walked past the compartment door, all already clad in their robes. It was then that he noticed how the clear afternoon had transformed itself into the darkness of night.

"We'd better change. The train'll be at Hogwarts soon."

Albus nodded, got up and left without a word. A second later, he stuck his head back into the compartment.

"Sorry, but I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy."

"Okay Scorpius. I'm Albus, but you probably knew that already. I'll see you around, then." Except the last thing wasn't a statement. It was a question. Then, he let the door click shut as he went to his own compartment.

As soon as Albus disappeared from view, Scorpius kicked his trunk in anger. What awful luck that the one tolerable person he had met so far would be a future Gryffindor. And yet, he didn't seem like one. None of that powerful strutting and idiotic babbling about good and evil that his father had told him to expect from them. It didn't matter, though. No doubt Albus had already run into his brother, who had swiftly set him straight about associating with Malfoys.

It would be a miracle if Scorpius ever saw him again and earned more than a glare in return.

He stripped himself of his Muggle garments, loathsome things as they were, and shrugged into his new robes. Hopefully, in a few hours time, he would have a green and silver tie to adorn his collar.

That made him smile. He would make his father proud.

He surveyed himself in the mirror and smoothed down his hair, making sure every strand was in place before sitting back down. About a minute later, he saw Albus's face at the door, hair as untidy as ever.

"Told you I'd see you around."

Less than an hour later, they were exiting the train and being beckoned by a giant man, toward rather unsteady looking boats. They surprisingly didn't capsize as they traversed the surface of the lake. The next few minutes were a blur to him, as he and the other first years were led to a room adjacent to the Great Hall.

A girl with flaming red hair moved to stand next to Albus as they waited for whatever came next.

"Missed you, Al. Where'd you go?"

"Just a bit further from where James was, Rose."

Scorpius glanced back at them as the pair continued their conversation.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't properly introduce you two. Rosie, this is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius, Rose Weasley."

Rose extended her hand instinctively.

If Scorpius had entered the train with any expectations for his first day at Hogwarts, few of them had included befriending a future Gryffindor and none of them included shaking hands with a Weasley. But she had offered, and viewed the situation just as oddly as he, judging from the look on her face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Scorpius," she managed before releasing his hand.

"Likewise, Rose."

Albus was surprised. That had gone loads better than he'd expected it to. Not a single hex had been cast by either party.

A few seconds passed, and they were called into the Great Hall and lined up in alphabetical order before the Sorting Hat, which sang a song that none of the first years paid particular attention to. There was more to worry about. Scorpius felt his mouth go dry. This was the moment of decision. Well, not quite, as there were several students in front of him. But close enough.

Martin Abercrombie was sorted into Hufflepuff, and the ceremony had officially begun. A thousand what if scenarios played, as if on a reel, through Scorpius's head.

What if he too ended up in Hufflepuff? Or Ravenclaw? Or any other house besides Slytherin? Would his father send him a Howler. What would everyone else say?

"Goyle, Clarisse."

Scorpius looked up just as she became the second person to be sorted into Slytherin. Their table burst into raucous applause as she took her seat beside Aria Zabini, grinning. Slytherin had been on the decline as of late, so every additional student became that much more important.

He watched as the line of people in front of him shortened, until finally,

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

Scorpius swore that his distance hat was growing progressively longer as he walked across the Great Hall. Whispers erupted behind him. The Slytherin table gazed at him expectantly. He glanced at the line of first years, where Albus gave him a small wave. Then, the hat was over his eyes, and he could see no more.

He thought as hard as he could about being placed into Slytherin as the hat probed through his head.

"Well, well, well, young Scorpius." the hat murmured. "Interesting, but difficult. Not as easily placed as Draco, or even Lucius. There's the Slytherin ambition, oh yes. Lots of it. You're definitely a Malfoy, can't be denied…"

Scorpius allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

"I can even detect a certain amount of bravery in you. But your mind is exceedingly keen, even now, before you've taken any proper classes in magic. You've a hunger for knowledge I don't often see so early, or so clearly for that matter. No, I don't think the house of your fathers will do for you. You need to be somewhere that will give you pause, hold you back and cause you to think a bit before acting."

He felt dizzy. It couldn't be. But the hat had just said he had the characteristics of a Slytherin...

"So then, it'll be RAVENCLAW!"

It took a few seconds before the Head Boy began to clap, causing the rest of Ravenclaw table to respond with halfhearted applause. Well, they'd gotten a Malfoy. But if he was anything like Draco, he wouldn't be in their house in the first place, many of them quickly reasoned.

Scorpius felt physically ill as he took his seat. It wasn't fair. How could he be here, and not over there, at the Slytherin table? A dim part of him inwardly laughed at the fact that he would have a good reason to never associate with the Goyle siblings or Aria Zabini. But it was grossly overshadowed by the deep shame that coursed through his body like ice.

It took a bit of time before he was able to pay proper attention to the sorting once more. A familiar boy stood at the front of the line.

"Potter, Albus."

Scorpius allowed his mouth to drop open in dumbfounded shock. _Potter? Albus was a Potter?_

When he rethought it again, he kicked himself for being so oblivious. How could Albus not be? He was the spitting image of his father. Scorpius had seen pictures of Harry Potter in the Daily Prophet at least once a week when his mother read it. The facial features. The untidy, black hair. The light eyes.

Professor McGonagall put the hat onto Albus's head as soon as the mutters and whispers had died down to their usual volume. Scorpius watched as Albus sat on the stool for an entire minute, mentally pleading with it to be placed into Gryffindor.

Everyone in the Great Hall held their breath as the seconds drew on. Just as Scorpius concluded that the hat had died of indecision, it finally announced its choice in a booming call that echoed off of the walls.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Scorpius was speechless. The entire Gryffindor table stared at the hat in disbelief. The people around him exploded into cheers and applause, and when he found his voice, he was inclined to join them. Albus stumbled toward him, and Scorpius moved aside so he would have somewhere to sit.

"Great to see you." Someone behind Albus said. He nodded weakly at them and turned to Scorpius, whose eyebrow was raised.

"Well, this is certainly an interesting turn of events, isn't it, Potter?"

"Quite."

Albus was pale as snow.

But Scorpius had no time for him at the moment. He craned his neck so he could properly see those sitting at the Slytherin table. Aria Zabini caught his eye and glared venomously at him before returning to her conversation with a nearby fourth year.

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><p>"<em>Your mother and I are appalled at this. We thought we'd raised you properly, but evidently…" Draco gestured to his son's Ravenclaw robes.<em>

"_I'm sorry, father. Really, I am."_

"_As you damn well should be. You're a disgrace to the name Malfoy. But no matter. You won't have to worry about that for much longer."_

_He fumbled around in his robes._

"_Father, what are you—"_

"_You think I'd allow a Ravenclaw to be my heir and carry on my legacy? You really believe I'd do that? Of course not. You won't be a part of me for that much longer." Draco raised his wand. "With this spell, I'll remove you from the Malfoy family."_

_Years of solitude danced before Scorpius's eyes. Of having no name, no relatives to cling to, of wandering the world alone. A bastard. Rejected by the few people who were supposed to accept him. But how could Father? He'd disappointed him beyond forgiveness. _

_The second Draco raised his wand, Scorpius was seized by excruciating pain, unlike anything he'd ever experienced._

"_Father, please! Father!"_

Scorpius awoke in his four-poster bed, drenched with sweat. His heart slammed out a rapid jackhammer beat as he surveyed his surroundings. Oh thank Merlin. It had all been a dream.

Everything was blue. The sheets, the hangings. So unfamiliar.

It was then that he remembered that he was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in the Ravenclaw dormitory to be exact. He'd been sorted into Ravenclaw.

So that part hadn't been a dream. Great.

As he slowly adjusted to being awake, he heard a sniffle. A halting gasp. The unmistakable sounds of someone crying. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and moved to investigate.

What was the spell to create light again? He couldn't remember it for the life of him. But the moon streaming through the windows provided some degree of illumination, and it took him exactly three seconds to find the source of the noise.

Albus Potter, who sat in his bed, tears sliding silently down his face, looking at nothing in particular.

"Potter."

Albus looked up at Scorpius and turned away, evidently embarrassed at being seen like this.

"Laugh, why don't you? At the boy who can't handle being alone." He whispered. Scorpius sat down on Albus's bed so he could hear him.

"You're not alone. The dormitory's full of people." Scorpius gestured to the rows of beds before him.

"They're are all sleeping. Besides, I mean friends. Family. Not them. I can't talk to them." Albus explained. Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"And why not? I'm sure everyone would bend over backwards to comfort the son of the Chosen One."

"That's it, though. They only want to be around me because I'm his son. Once they get to know me, figure out that I'm practically nothing like him – couldn't even get into Gryffindor – they'll probably leave. I don't really have anyone in this house. I'm alone, Malfoy."

"At least they don't hate you."

"Yes, Potter, a good majority of the students hate me for things my father did while he was here. Do you know what that is? It's one thing for people to worship you before they know you. But to have people spit at your family as you walk through Hogsmeade? At least if I had ended up in Slytherin, I would have had a few friends. But now…? Unlike you, with your family in Gryffindor, there's not a single person in another house who wants to see me. I have nobody. Absolutely no friends."

It was at that point that Scorpius realized exactly how pitiful his situation was. No doubt Zabini and the Goyles would never speak to him. He was totally alone. He felt the burn behind his eyes and blinked back the weakness that threatened to display itself. When he could look up again, he noticed that Albus was no longer crying. Instead, he merely gazed at him.

"What is it?" Scorpius demanded. Then, he found himself being hugged by the raven-haired boy in front of him.

"I'll be your friend," Albus whispered into the shoulder of Scorpius's pajama shirt. Against his better judgment, Scorpius returned the embrace. They stay that way on Albus's bed, silently brooding for the better part of the night.

The first day of school, and Scorpius had been sorted into Ravenclaw, made enemies of Zabini and Goyle's children, shook hands with a Weasley and befriended a Potter.

What a strange year this was going to be.

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><p>Sappy? Yes. Angstier than the poetry of a slighted teenage girl? You bet.<br>I promise further chapters will be a great deal more interesting.

Review, please?

I'll do my best to respond and reciprocate if you have any stories up.


	2. 23 September, 2017 to 30 March, 2018

AN: So we're back with the second installment of the fanfic I started writing on the 7 train.

I just want to thank all my lovely reviewers. No seriously, you people made my day.  
>I hope you enjoy this. :]<p>

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><p><span>Those Who Cannot Remember, chapter two: 23 September 2017 to 30 March 2018<span>

_23 September 2017_

During the third week of class, Aria stopped Scorpius on his way back to his common room.

"I've decided to forgive you for being in Ravenclaw."

"Good to hear."

Scorpius continued on his way, strongly hoping that she was done. Why the supercilious bint felt the need to bother him at this particular moment was beyond his comprehension.

"No, wait, that's not what I meant, Scorpius. Really. I'm sorry. You had no control over it, and it was stupid of me to give you dirty looks. People do that enough, don't they?"

Scorpius wheeled around to look at her. There was something in her tone that compelled him. Her face had been drained of every ounce of its usual haughtiness, and her eyes were almost melancholic. It was an odd change.

"Yes, that they do." He agreed.

"I'm sorry, then. You don't have to forgive me, but just know that I am."

What in the world was she apologizing for? She hadn't done anything to him, unless glaring counted for something, in which case half of Hogwarts owed him an apology, a cake, and a firstborn child.

"It's alright, Zabi… Aria. You don't have to apologize."

He didn't want her apology. It felt too weird.

She turned and headed back for the Slytherin dungeons, and was halfway to the staircase when she looked back at the blond boy.

"Oh, and Scorpius?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

Then, she was out of sight.

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><p><em>27 September 2017<em>

Draco Malfoy had reacted well to his son's Sorting, if one could call stoic silence and the decision not to send a Howler "reacting well". To his friends, he maintained that someone of Scorpius's intellectual ability could go nowhere but to the most academically talented house. Not even to Slytherin.

Harry Potter's response was slightly warmer. In a letter delivered into Albus's plate of eggs by the family owl – a slight, manic, twittering thing that appeared to be on amphetamines – he congratulated his son on being in Ravenclaw and asked if he needed anything.

"Tell him you need the books your aunt had at the university, and all the Honeydukes' sweets they can fit in a box."

"But we won't be able to understand Aunt Hermione's books. We barely understand Teddy's NEWT textbooks."

"Fine, then, Albus. Spoil my fun. But we should still get the sweets."

"Yes, that, we should." Albus agreed. He opened his bag and rummaged around for his schedule. "Do we have Transfiguration first today?"

"Nope. Today's Tuesday. History of Magic. Transfiguration after."

"Great."

History of Magic was one of those classes that dragged on for impossible lengths of time, especially in the mornings. For the past two hundred years, people had sworn that the clock stopped while Professor Binns was talking. Half of the students invariably fell asleep ten minutes into his lectures.

Albus and a few tenacious souls fought slumber while struggling to take notes. Scorpius idly bewitched paper balls to bounce off the blackboard and other students' heads when Binns wasn't looking. It was a horrible way to make friends, but it was fun as hell.

"You really should pay more attention to what he's saying." Albus chided, earning an eye-roll from his friend in reply.

"I read the entire textbook in August."

"Good, so you won't ask me for help when finals start, then."

Albus deflected an errant paper ball and went back to work.

As they mounted the staircase leading to Transfiguration, the third-years were leaving, abuzz with conversation now that they were no longer under McGonagall's watchful gaze.

"I think I got the hang of Switching Spells, which I guess'll be useful if I ever decide to switch Nott's nose with a mushroom." James said, amongst the chatter of his usual group. He broke his stride when he saw his brother about to enter the classroom with the other Ravenclaw first years, suddenly reminded of something he needed to tell him.

"Oi, Al! Albus!"

Albus was rather annoyed at being made late for Transfiguration until he realized that the person calling him was none other than James. Then, he was highly annoyed. James hadn't spoken to him since the first of September, and that had only been to make fun of him. Now he just thought he could pull him aside and make him late for Transfiguration?

"What do you want?"

"Nothing." James raised his hands and slung an arm around Albus's shoulders. "Listen, can we talk for a minute?"

"You're making me late for Transfiguration."

"It's important. I promise."

James pulled his brother into a more secluded hallway.

"First off, I want to apologize for what I said to you on the train. Rosie told me how you were avoiding me the whole ride, and honestly, I was just messing around. But you didn't see it that way, and I'm sorry. I would never try to intentionally hurt you, Al."

Albus nodded, feeling some of his anger evaporate. But was that the only thing James had to say?

"I'm not done." James continued, as if he had read his younger sibling's mind. "You know how some of the people here are right gits, yes?"

"Unfortunately."

"Well, I have Herbology with the Slytherins. They're really angry about the whole Malfoy thing. One of them saw you on the train talking to him and figured that you somehow hoodwinked him into asking for Ravenclaw instead of –"

"But that's completely mad! I got sorted after he did! I didn't know I was going to end up in Ravenclaw!"

James shushed him.

"In case you didn't notice, a lot of them _are_ completely mad. I'm not a fan of your friendship with the Malfoy kid, but I'm not about to hex you for it. Your friends are your friends. I'm getting off topic. The Slytherins are convinced you deprived their house of a perfectly good first year by associating with him. Like you corrupted him or something."

"Corrupted? That's what they call not being sorted into Slytherin?"

"Like I said, they're completely mad, and they're after you. Do you know how to cast a Shield Charm?"

"Not well." Albus admitted.

"The spell's Protego, and you probably already knew that from Teddy's books. Practice it. Master it. You're going to need to know how to do it. If it wasn't this group, I'd say don't worry about it, but I think the Slytherins might have something a bit nastier than just a Stinging Hex in mind."

"Like what?"

"It's hard to say. One of them jinxed me into a suit of armor last year, and she was maybe twelve at the time. People reckon the sixth years are capable of Unforgivables…"

"But I'm sure they won't use them on you!" James added, upon seeing Albus's horrified expression. "They're punishable by a life sentence in Azkaban. I don't think a few fourteen year olds would risk that. Simpler jinxes, though? Maybe a few detentions at most. They're really crafty, good making sure their actions don't get them into trouble. None of them have records. So watch yourself, Al. That's all I'm saying. C'mon. Lemme walk you to Transfiguration."

Albus allowed himself to be led to Professor McGonagall's classroom, but was suddenly apathetic toward the prospect of doing any sort of spell work. James rapped his knuckle against the wooden door and was greeted by a stern woman whose hair was beginning to whiten.

"I'm supervising a lesson right now, so you'll need to— Potter? You're back? I saw you not ten minutes ago."

"And you." She looked at Albus. "You're late. What is the meaning of this?"

"Sorry, Professor." James said. "It's my fault Al's late. Just let him into the classroom and I'll explain."

Professor McGonagall turned aside so Albus could run in and join his classmates. Then, she stepped out of the room and shut the door.

"So, an explanation, Potter? I'm waiting."

James had offered himself up as the sacrificial lamb without working out exactly what he would say to convince McGonagall not to take a few dozen points away from his, or Albus's houses. Perhaps honesty would be the best policy. But snitching? If the Slytherins caught wind of that, it would come down hard on both of them.

"Sorry, Dad sent me a letter about something he had to go and do." James hoped his Professor would think it had to do with his father's duties as an Auror. "I wanted to tell Albus, and we don't have any frees in common, and it's hard to explain things to anyone in the Great Hall during dinner. You know how loud it gets."

"So you thought you'd just use up my class time to deal with personal matters?" She replied calmly. James's heart sank. At least week's worth of detention for him.

"Nonetheless, I'm sure that whatever your father had to say was important, and you naturally thought it your brotherly duty to inform Albus." She continued, face betraying nothing. "I'll let you both go this once. Merlin knows already I tolerate enough of your antics, James. But don't let it happen again. If you need to tell your brother something, do it on your own time."

"Of course. Thank you so much."

James left her at the door, thoroughly relieved, and ran to his Divination class as fast as his legs would carry him. McGonagall returned to her room to finish the lesson.

"Now, Potter, I'm sure your partner has already brought you up to speed, but you're supposed to be turning these cuff-links into ladybugs."

"Right then. Thanks, Professor."

Albus focused on the task at hand and ignored Scorpius's curious glances, as a ladybug scuttled across his desk. It would not be prudent for him to divulge anything. What would Scorpius be able to do anyway?

* * *

><p><em>27 January 2018<em>

A little more than halfway through the year, Albus and Scorpius had finally surmised that they could spend no more than eleven seconds in the common room together without someone giving them a funny look. They were always rather subtle about it, staring out of the corners of their eyes as they pretended to be reading a book, or a notice, or something else.

_But that creeping sensation was always there,_ Albus thought. _The feeling of being watched._

"Library?" Albus had already gathered his books into his arms and was moving toward the portrait hole.

"Yes, let's go." Scorpius agreed.

The library was really the only place they could head. It ended up being where they spent most of their evenings, reading about nothing in particular until they were too tired to turn pages, or until Madam Pince unceremoniously threw them out. Often, they were joined by Rose Weasley, who came there to study quietly, since the Gryffindor common room tended to be terribly loud. Either it was angry Quidditch discussions, or James Potter and his best friend, Fred Weasley, playing Exploding Snap for the seventieth time.

"Can't believe you ended up in a house with them, Rosie." Albus said after one occasion where one of James's spells had accidentally singed one of her eyebrows half off.

"Oh, shush, they're not bad. Besides, their antics are quite funny. Just not when I'm trying to read." Rose dropped a thick hardcover book about recent magical discoveries onto the table and reopened it to the place she had marked with a length of ribbon.

"That's terrible. If I could get into your common room, I'd hex them for you." Scorpius offered.

"You'd be one to talk, Scorpius, seeing as you pass the time in History of Magic flicking paper balls at my head when I'm trying to take notes." Albus retorted.

"Yes, but that's Binns. Nobody in their right mind would listen to him talk. Also, there's a difference between chucking scraps of paper and removing eyebrows."

He turned to Rose before Albus could respond.

"What're you reading about, anyway?"

"Well, I was reading about the new protections they have on Wizard dwellings so Muggles can't ever find them, at least until you interrupted me."

Scorpius made a face like he had been forced to swallow lemon juice.

"What is it, Scorpius?"

"He can't stand Muggles, Rose." Albus said. She glowered at Scorpius. If looks could kill, he would be a pile of ash.

"You know, just when I'd thought you weren't like the rest of your family, you convince me otherwise. How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?"

Scorpius winced, as if having been dealt a physical blow, and resisted the urge to snap back with something that would cause Rose to leave in an affronted huff.

"It's not like that, Rose. I don't hate Muggleborns or Half-bloods or dispute their right to do magic, unlike some other people." He thought of every single person he'd grown up with. "We've all got these powers, right? It's just that I've yet to understand why we have to sneak around and pretend we don't exist, while Muggles get free rein over the universe."

"I hadn't thought of it that way." And from her tone, it was clear that she hadn't. "Fine. You make a decent point, but it's still a mean thing to say." She conceded, though out of actual agreement or extreme reluctance to hex anyone in the library was unclear.

Albus let the hairs on the back of his neck return to their usual position. Scorpius and Rose were his best friends, and every time they spent more than twenty minutes in the same place, they would find something to argue about.

He and Scorpius argued frequently as well, but they didn't fight so much as debate.

_How many pinches of doxy wings ought one put into Veritaserum?_

As heated as these discussions got, they never ended with wands drawn.

With Rose and Scorpius, Albus couldn't be sure.

* * *

><p><em>18 February 2018<em>

Books were easy. Books weren't people. It was easy to crack open a textbook, absorb its contents and walk away a little wiser.

They didn't pull you aside and say "_Oh, Scorpius, I can't seem to understand the essay McGonagall assigned", _requisition your help, and then still refuse to acknowledge your existence except in that one single moment.

Nor did they aim Jelly-Legs Jinxes and Stinging Hexes at you as you ran down the stairs from History of Magic to Charms, and then wave to you in the hallway.

"_Afternoon, Albus." Nott grinned. _

They were cut and dry. Black and white. Easier than interaction.

Scorpius could lie in his bed, curled up with a textbook, until the end of foreseeable eternity. It didn't matter much to him if the world exploded or kept on spinning, as long as his eyes could focus on the lines of text. Somehow if he stayed on this, everything else would become irrelevant.

It wouldn't matter that his only friend was an increasingly taciturn boy with bright green eyes, who sat poring over his brother's Defense Against the Dark Arts book in the bed next to his. Scorpius rolled over and studied him the way he did his Transfiguration notes. His jawline, the angle of his arm as he turned pages.

The way he held his face in his hands as he willed himself to stay awake. His sheets rustled beneath him.

Albus was losing weight. Marks were springing up all over his body, small burns. Jinx scars. Someone had been hexing him.

Scorpius would have been sure it was a Slytherin leaving all those marks, except he hadn't let Albus out of his sight for long enough for that to happen.

At half past ten, Albus got up and made to leave the dormitory.

"Where're you going?"

"To take a shower."

* * *

><p><em>30 March 2018<em>

The Charms classroom was empty, except for those two students who frequented it at odd hours of the night.

"You need to practice more, Albus." James shot another stunning spell at the smaller boy, who had resorted to dodging them, as his Shield Charm was capable of nothing more than deflecting an absentmindedly-cast Expelliarmus.

"I'm trying, James, but you keep trying to hex me!"

"Well, of course I'm trying to hex you! What, d'you think the Slytherins are going to walk up and _wait _for you to get your defenses up?"

They had been at this since eleven. And so it had been going three nights a week since the seventh of November. James started out teaching Albus the basics – Expelliarmus and Stupefy, which Albus passed onto Scorpius in the common room, when everyone had gone up to bed.

Sure, Albus was the more likely of the pair to get hexed, but as James had said, that group of Slytherins was "completely mad", and cursing Scorpius couldn't be wholly out of the question. He didn't know about Aria and her reputation.

"_Any reason why you're teaching me all this stuff?" Scorpius asked, after knocking over a blue vase with his first successful disarming spell. _

"_Consider it payback for all the help you give me in Transfiguration. Look at it this way, we'll be ahead of everyone else when we start learning defensive stuff."_

"_We're already ahead of everyone else, but I see your point." _

James's misaimed Twitchy Ears Hex jolted Albus back into the present, where he was trying to master casting a simple Shield Charm. The theory behind them was easy enough to understand. Even creating one alone was not terribly difficult.

It was just the matter of doing the necessary magic with someone's wand in your face.

"Let's go again, then." Albus wiped the sweat off of his face.

"Alright, then. Petrificus—"

"Protego!"

"—Totalus!"

Inches away from Albus's face, the spell ricocheted off of some invisible barrier and smacked into a nearby stack of books. James froze. Somebody had to have heard that. Mrs. Norris could be here any second.

He dove for a darkened corner of the room, brother in tow.

"Bloody hell, Al. You did it."

Albus grinned at him. They stood, stock-still as statues, watching for Filch and that blasted cat.

* * *

><p>End Notes: Originally, there were more scenes in this, but then I decided to split it up into two chapters. ~7000 words is a bit long for one. I'll hopefully have chapter 3 up sometime tomorrow and chapter 4 up by the middle of the week.<p>

On a technical note, I'm looking for a beta-reader. If you're interested, please PM me, and maybe we can discuss the details.

Thank you for reading!

- Vodka


	3. 16 May, 2018 to 13 June, 2018

AN: Hey everybody, so I'm here with chapter three. I know I'm updating fast, but my first semester of college starts on August 26th, so I'm trying to write as many chapters as possible before that begins. Unless my workload is ridiculously light (not holding my breath for that one), updates will definitely be a bit more infrequent than they currently are.

Sorry about that in advance. But for now, you can probably expect bi-weekly updates from me.

* * *

><p><span>Those Who Cannot Remember, chapter three: 06 May 2018 to 13 June 2018<span>

_06 May 2018_

For whatever reason, perhaps due to her untimely demise at the hands of an Acromantula (Scorpius could only hope), Madam Pince had neglected to kick the dynamic duo out of the library, despite the lateness of the hour. It was a quarter of ten the last time he'd checked, roughly twenty minutes ago.

Albus sat half an inch away from him on the bench, lethargically trying to finish his essay for Potions. At least until his stomach growled like some sort of feral animal.

"You shouldn't have skipped dinner." Scorpius shook his head at the shorter boy. "That was a terrible idea."

"Yeah, 't was."

His stomach continued to make angry noises as he scrawled a half legible response to the question Professor Argentum had set before them.

Meanwhile, Scorpius was trying a Hover Charm on the heavily abused button-daffodil that had been subject to countless experiments over the last few months. It was leaf-green now, as a result of his success in turning it into a grasshopper and attempts to transfigure it back.

"Finite." Albus muttered, wand raised. The transfigured button dropped onto the table like a stone. Scorpius glared at him.

"What'd you do that for?"

"It keeps distracting me." He snapped, knocking it off the table. Shortly after, he added, "Sorry. I'm just really tired. This constant studying for finals is getting to me."

Scorpius nodded and said no more for the moment. He had noticed Albus had been rather tetchy and withdrawn as of late, but all of his attempts to raise the issue with the boy were squarely met with excuses and proclamations of "I don't know what you're talking about."

Scorpius was not stupid. In fact, he, Albus and Rose Weasley were neck and neck at the top of the class. He figured Albus's change in demeanor, which had started displaying itself sometime in October, had something to do with his desire to teach Scorpius all of these defensive spells. He couldn't quite figure out why, though.

He had no way of knowing that in the previous week, Francis Mulciber had tried to stun Albus, while Scorpius had stayed late to talk to McGonagall about what happened with objects that were transfigured too frequently. Mulciber was rather unskilled, missed by half a foot, and hit the portrait of Sir Cadogan.

But it was enough to put Albus on edge. He could say nothing to his friend, though. Having become rather close friends with the blond boy over the course of the year, he was sure Scorpius would do something idiotically irrational, like trying to take on the entirety of Slytherin house with nothing but a wand. Albus was loath to find out what a group of upperclassmen could do to an irate first year.

"Take a nap then. Your answers to the Potions essay that isn't even due until the 17th are funny. I wasn't aware that pumpkin juice was a remedy for Asphodel poisoning."

Albus glanced at his parchment, saw that he had actually written that, and sighed.

"I guess I will, then." He folded up the paper and stuffed it into his bag, before putting his head on table in front of him.

"Can't wait until I learn how to conjure food so I never have to listen to your stomach again." Scorpius muttered.

"You… can't. It's one of the…ah… exceptions to Gamp's Law." Albus managed sleepily before closing his eyes.

Scorpius inwardly kicked himself. He'd read that somewhere and should have remembered it. What a stupid statement he'd made.

Still bemoaning his idiocy, he opened his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and set upon finishing his homework. The faster they completed the assigned material, the faster they could read ahead to better topics. That was one of the rules Rose had set for herself when she came to the library.

Studying first, fun later.

She came so often that her routine had become their own.

Fifteen seconds into his assignment, Scorpius concluded that trolls were the most boring creatures he had ever had the misfortune of reading about. All violence and brutality. Nothing vaguely noteworthy about them, except for their stupidity, he thought as he took out a sheet of parchment and began to write.

He stopped when he heard footsteps and hastily began cramming his books back into his bag. So the old hag had finally come back, then.

"Sorry, Madam Pince. We lost track of the—"

But it wasn't Madam Pince. It was James Potter, who brushed his shoulder-length hair out of his eyes when he entered the dimly lit library. He crossed the rows of shelves in long-legged strides before stopping at the table where Scorpius and Albus had spread out their stuff.

"Sorry, Malfoy. I gotta borrow Al for a few minutes." He tried to keep his expression neutral, knowing that the barest hint of hostility would set the blonde off like a rocket.

"He's sleeping."

"Obviously." James snapped, unable to control himself. "But this is important."

He ignored Scorpius's scowl, put a hand on Albus's shoulder and gently shook it.

"Al, I'm so sorry, but you need to wake up for a second. I have to talk to you."

"This is the second night this week and the fifth this month, what could you possibly –"

"Stop. This has nothing to do with you." He lied.

And then, to Albus. "C'mon, wake up. Please?"

Albus merely grunted and began to snore.

"He's exhausted, Potter. Whatever you have to say to him can wait until tomorrow."

"Except it can't."

"And why can't it?"

"One, McGonagall'll disembowel me if I ever use her class to talk to him again, and that's the only part of the day where I'm anywhere near him besides breakfast. And that won't work, since the Great Hall is full of people. People talk a lot. You get my meaning?"

"Not in the slightest, Potter. Why don't you sit down and tell to me what it is that you're doing to Albus."

"Doing to him? You—"

"I see him come in late at night with hex marks!" Scorpius's voice echoed off the high ceilings, full of fury. "He let slip once that he was with you. So are you going to tell me what's going on or not? You can't do this to him, James. I'll… I'll…" He struggled for a minute.

"I'll go to Flitwick! And if he doesn't do anything, I'll go to McGonagall and have you expelled!"

James resisted the urge to bash his head into the nearest bookshelf. Scorpius had added one and one and gotten eleven. Typical Ravenclaws, convinced that they knew absolutely everything. James glanced at Albus, who had remained asleep through his friend's entire outburst. He knew his brother slept like a rock, but this was just insane.

"Get me expelled then, midget. I'd like to see you do it! You just don't understand, do you?" James stood so that he was towering over the two first years and glaring down at Scorpius.

Scorpius had his mouth open to continue shouting and was halfway out of his chair to go to the headmistress.

Then it hit him.

Aria's warning. The hex marks. James's decision to provide his brother with his Defense Against the Dark Arts notes. Albus's insistence on teaching Scorpius all of this defensive magic. Mulciber and Nott's glares. Yes, Albus had been out after hours with James. Yes, James had been hexing him. But not for the reasons Scorpius had assumed.

"What are they planning? The Slytherins. They're doing something, aren't they? That's why you and Albus are practicing spells late at night."

Well, at least the obnoxious little midget had gotten it eventually. James sighed and carded a hand through his hair, thankful for once that Albus was asleep.

"I don't know, Malfoy. I really don't know. "

His stricken face flickered in the candle-light.

* * *

><p><em>29 May 2018<em>

Finals' Week came down upon them in an impressive array of bright, sunny days that caused many to break their resolutions to study for exams as diligently as they'd planned. It was easy to tell when students were finished with their testing. As soon they'd turned in their papers, they immediately ran outside onto the grounds to celebrate the end of the school year.

James and Fred were content to tease the giant squid and occasionally glance at their notes. Third year exams didn't really count for much in the scheme of things.

Albus wished he had his brother's lazy self-assurance as he sat in the library poring over his Potions notes. It was his last exam, and while he was sure he had aced his others, some of the specifics of mixing ingredients were still giving him trouble.

"You haven't got to worry," Rose assured him on their way to the classroom. She had taken the exam earlier in the afternoon, and therefore had some authority as to its contents. "We're first years, so Argentum doesn't expect much from us."

"Yes, but I'd still like to do well. Get a hundred percent, if possible."

"I'm aiming for a hundred and five."

"Oh, please. We all know I'm going to get the highest score." Scorpius drawled, having seemingly materialized behind them.

"Sure, you'll get a hundred and six and the Cannons'll win the World Cup."

Scorpius punched Albus in the shoulder for that.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Can't tell you how much it means."

"It's a fully written exam, so don't worry about having to brew anything. Professor Argentum says it's because it'd be difficult to brew any potions in the dark." Rose said.

"In the dark?"

Before Rose could explain further, Albus and Scorpius had already reached the door.

When they walked inside, the dungeons were indeed darker than usual, illuminated only by a few candles at each desk. They gave the room an eerie flickering quality. Albus felt his pupils dilate as they tried to take in as much of the sparse light as possible.

Professor Argentum informed them that the rather untimely darkness was due to the fact that the sixth years had been working on several potions that were photosensitive for their final exam. Scorpius groaned. Perfect testing conditions.

Papers appeared in front of each person in the room, completely blank except for a few questions.

Albus stretched, took out his quill, and began to fill in the answers, losing himself in a world that had shrunk down to his hand and the test paper. He penned paragraphs without fully registering what he had written, although when he reread them, everything seemed in place. Only when Argentum called time did he snap out of his trance.

"Please put down your quills and pass up your exams."

A glance at the pile of papers told Scorpius that they had clearly written the most. They waited for all the others to get ahead of them before they exited the room. It made things easier when people weren't crowded around Albus, asking him if he wanted to take a walk around the grounds with them.

"We aced it."

It was a strange statement coming from the usually nervous Albus, but he was in much better spirits all of a sudden. Their finals were complete. There were less than ten days left of class.

"I thought it was pretty easy, except for that last essay question. I doubt we ever learned that. " Scorpius complained.

Albus sighed and gave Scorpius a small smile as they rounded a corner.

"C'mon, it wasn't that b—"

"Stupefy!"

"Locomotor Mortis!"

One of the spells was clearly aimed for Scorpius, but Albus shoved him in the opposite direction. Both s hit him in the back at the same time, flinging him into the stone wall of the corridor with a sickening crunch. Scorpius looked wildly for the casters, but they had fled as soon as they'd uttered the words.

Albus lay on his back, blood dripping from where his head had connected with the wall. One of his arms was bent at a sickening angle, in contrast to his legs which were ramrod straight and nearly stuck together.

"Finite Incantem." Scorpius whispered, concentrating all of his magic into these two words, silver eyes wide with disbelief. Albus's legs sprang apart. He was dreadfully still, except for the steady trickle of blood running down his forehead, onto the floor.

Scorpius dropped to his knees and knelt beside him, shaking like a leaf all the while. The phrase to reverse a Stunning came to his mind as if it had been planted there.

"Ennervate."

Albus continued to lie, motionless, on the floor of the corridor. Scorpius couldn't tell if he was breathing. The halls were quiet. Nobody was coming.

"Ennervate!"

The idea that perhaps he was in shock and, precocious as he was at twelve, not powerful enough to perform such a spell never occurred to him, so instead his world came crashing down as he reached a terrible conclusion. Albus Potter was dead and it was his fault. He let a strangled cry rip from his throat before grabbing Albus by his collar.

"Wake up! Wake up!" Scorpius shook him, a crazed look in his eyes.

Albus's limbs flopped around but he did not move of his own accord.

Scorpius inhaled sharply, shudderingly. He slid one hand beneath Albus's back, the other beneath the bend of his knees and, tottering, made to carry him to the hospital wing.

It didn't matter if Albus was a bit too heavy. It did not matter if tears were obscuring his vision. Scorpius would get there.

The last thing Madam Pomfrey expected in the middle of the afternoon, or at any time of the day at all, was for Scorpius Malfoy, hair mussed and cheek gashed, to come stumbling into the hospital wing with an injured and thoroughly unconscious Albus Potter in his arms.

She immediately began assessing injuries in her head, even as she took the boy from Scorpius and made the quivering blond lie down on a bed.

"_But I can't. He's – he's –"_

"_Lie down!"_

He obeyed so as not to raise her ire further.

Albus was clearly the more wounded of the two, she thought. Stunned, concussed, arm fractured in two places, cuts, scrapes, bruises, half-healed hex burns. She clucked her tongue and pointed her wand at him.

"Ennervate."

The effect was instantaneous. Immediately his breathing became more apparent. Blood bubbled out of the corner of his mouth. She siphoned it off, mended his broken arm, took a bottle of dittany out of the pocket of her robes and began to tend to the cuts on his head.

When Albus had been healed to an extent that he could have been sleeping in the stark white bed, Madam Pomfrey moved to Scorpius, who was still crying and shaking.

"Scorpius, calm down. He's alive. He's going to be just fine." She said, as soothingly as possible, before offering him a steaming cup of amber liquid. "Here, drink this. It's a calming draught."

Once he had drunk down about half the cup, she brought the tip of her wand up to his face. Even with the draught in his system, he recoiled and dribbled some of the liquid on his sheets, but not before she had fixed the cut on his cheek.

"S-Sorry."

She waved her hand and the stain on the sheet disappeared.

"You're nearly sick with worry and sleep deprivation. I want you to lie down and try to sleep. If you can't, I'll make a sleeping potion for you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

He was still awake five hours later, though positively groggy, and sure that she had put something stronger than calming draught in the cup he'd been given. A sedative to be certain, but he had fought it for three hundred minutes, two hundred of which he spent going over bits and pieces of schoolwork.

12:23, the clock hanging above Madam Pomfrey's office read. He would not sleep until he saw Albus open his eyes.

"_Three anticlockwise stirs should be sufficient."_

His eyelids began to droop.

"_If your concentration wavers for more than a second, you may find your newt halfway transfigured…."_

He was snoring.

When he awoke at five in the morning, still too stoned on calming draught to see straight, a boy sat at the foot of his bed. The back of his head was wrapped up in what looked like a turban of bandages.

"What the –?"

"Morning, Scorpius." Albus turned to him and grinned, green eyes sparkling.

"What're you— you're – how – are you –?" Scorpius babbled, until Albus put a finger to his lips and shushed him.

"I'm fine, I promise. Just go back to sleep."

And he did.

* * *

><p><em>30 May 2018 - Later<em>

Fred Weasley and James Potter came careening into the hospital wing maybe twenty seconds after the end of Divination final, nearly knocking over a bed.

"Madam Pomfrey!" James gasped. "Fred told me that a Hufflepuff told him that a Ravenclaw fourth year saw—"

"James, Fred, out!" The minute she saw them, she started pushing them back toward the doors. The last thing she needed this morning was to have the biggest troublemakers in Hogwarts wreaking havoc on her charges. "I am not about to let you put undue stress on two patients who need rest."

"But – my brother –" He protested.

He wasn't going to leave quietly. For Merlin's sake, he hadn't yet done anything to deserve the older witch jumping down his throat.

"I think it'd be a good idea if you let him see Albus." Fred muttered to Madam Pomfrey. "Either that, or he's going to go off to the dungeons and hex Terrence Nott. I'll even leave if you don't want him to have too many visitors."

She sighed, not wanting to contemplate how the two things were related, and thought about the years she had spent as a nurse. For as long as she could remember them being in Hogwarts, the Potters had been the most danger-prone group of students. Always in and out of the infirmary. James the first, Harry, and now these two.

"Five minutes." She nodded at James and bustled off. Fred waved at his friend and left for the common room without a word.

Madam Pomfrey's insistence on Albus getting his rest had led James to believe that he must have been sleeping. But that was anything but the case. Albus sat on the foot of a bed, reading, while Scorpius snored behind him.

His expression immediately brightened when he noticed his visitor and he jumped up to hug his older brother.

"James!"

The Gryffindor instantly became privy to the sensation of an overzealous preteen boy attempting to squeeze his lungs out.

"Down, midget. Pomfrey'll kill me if she sees you out of bed." His eyes were glued to the bandages around Albus's head. "So how're you feeling? I tried to get down here at breakfast, but McGonagall caught me and refused to let me skive off my Divination final."

"I'm feeling excellent. I wish they'd let me take these things off, though. They're itchy."

James swallowed. How could Albus be so nonchalant? If the rumors were true, he'd almost died. During breakfast, details had come to light, although the full truth still had yet to be ascertained. James already had some idea as to what went down, but he had to be sure. He sat down in the chair beside the bed.

"What happened?"

"Somebody tried to Stun me and use the leg-locker jinxed on me. It wouldn'tve been that bad if they hadn't hexed me headfirst into a wall." Albus recounted. "According to Madam Pomfrey, I was bleeding like crazy, so Scorpius carried me all the way over here.

"I don't remember anything from after the spells hit me. One second, I'd been knocked out, and the next, I was waking up here, and McGonagall was asking Madam Pomfrey about whether I was going to be alright, who did it, and so forth."

"D'you know who did it?"

Albus shook his head, no.

"I told McGonagall that I thought Terrence Nott might've had something to do with it. She said she'll go check it out, but what can we do if I can't prove anything?"

James willed himself to remain calm. It was almost certain that Nott had been one of the people who had hexed his brother, and he was most likely going to get off scot-free due to a lack of proof.

Fred had grossly underestimated James when he told Madam Pomfrey that he was going to curse Nott. If he had his way, he was going to kill the fourth year. With his bare hands. No wands needed.

"James, are you alright?" Albus would have had to be blind to miss the anger that flitted across his brother's features.

"Great, Al. Super, in fact. Listen, I gotta go." If he spent anymore time in this infirmary, looking at his injured and oblivious brother, it was going to take an army of Stunners to tear him off of Nott. "Thank Scorpius for me, wouldja?"

James glanced at the sleeping boy behind Albus, before getting up.

"Of course." Albus replied. "There's something I wanted to ask you." It was clear from his tone that he had rehearsed this beforehand. "Do you think Mom and Dad would mind if he spent part of the summer with us?"

"Dunno. I doubt it." James answered, thinking of the endless stream of relatives and visitors that came to the Potter household during a normal week. One more would make no difference. "It might be a good idea too. If Nott and these stupid Slytherins are responsible for what happened to you, it'd probably be better if Scorpius stayed around our place for a bit."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

"Honestly, Al." James ruffled his hair. "After what Scorpius did for you, I'd be surprised if Mom didn't extend the invitation."

* * *

><p><em>13 June 2018<em>

"Did you pack everything?" Rose asked Albus and Scorpius as they made their way from the platform onto the Hogwarts Express.

"That's the fourth time you've asked that question Rose, and the answer hasn't changed." Scorpius muttered darkly, maneuvering his trolley into the train. Rose fumed at him.

"Well, you know, it's not going to be my fault if you've forgotten a textbook or something and have to wait until next year to get it back."

"I could just go to Flourish and Blotts during the holiday and get a new copy if worst came to worst." Scorpius retorted.

"Stop it already, you two. We're supposed to be finding an empty compartment and saving seats for the others."

Locating a compartment wasn't too difficult. Most people were still saying their goodbyes around the castle, but Rose had insisted on getting down to the platform early. In retrospect, it was an excellent idea, especially since there weren't that many people either of them would miss dearly.

Minutes passed as the train slowly filled with chattering students.

"Ah…" Rose looked out the window at the school, which was losing its familiarity again now that they were on the train again. "I'm going to miss this place."

"I won't." Scorpius and Albus said in unison. Rose giggled.

"You will. Definitely." She maintained. "If you don't miss the castle, you'll at least miss each other."

Albus's face took on an unusually pink tinge. Scorpius seemed suddenly preoccupied with a random spot on the carpeting and refused to look at either of them. The tension in the compartment had become almost unbearably tangible.

"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." Rose dramatically said, having decided that the best way to break the awkward silence would be to trample it into bits. Albus and Scorpius looked at her in confusion.

"What the hell was that?"

"Shakespeare." And then, channeling her mother. "Honestly, don't you two read?"

Albus silenced Scorpius before he could argue.

James and Fred drifted in after Victoire a few minutes later, thoroughly mesmerized by the girl a few steps in front of them. Yes, she was their cousin. She was also part Veela.

"Morning, all." Victoire smiled, once she had taken her seat at the window, beside Rose. She reopened the issue of Witch Weekly she had been perusing.

"Well, another year down, James." Fred commented.

"Only four more to go." James groaned, "Four more long years of getting pointless tripe crammed into my head."

"Six more for us," Rose chimed in.

"Yeah, see, it could always be worse," Fred said, pointing at Rose, Albus and Scorpius. "You don't hear them complaining."

"That's because they're at the top of the class. They eat, sleep and breathe school, the nerds. In the library every single day."

"True. But for the rest of us, there's always Quidditch. Quidditch and girls."

"The two greatest things on earth. Proof that there is a God and he wants us to be happy." James said.

Albus stifled a gagging noise with his sleeve.

"Unless you're a pouf or something." Fred amended. "Like that Hufflepuff Seeker."

"It's why he's so good on a broomstick. Bit light in the loafers, has no problem getting up into the air." James commented. Everyone in the compartment snickered. He seemed pleased with himself for a few seconds, at least until his expression sobered up.

"But seriously, Fred, this year's been too embarrassing. We lost the Quidditch Cup to Hufflepuff!"

"We're going to need to practice every single day this summer. Including weekends. Rain or shine." Fred answered gravely.

Albus and Scorpius exchanged glances. James glanced over the people in the compartment.

"So let's see. Victoire can be a Keeper if she sticks around past July. I'll be a Chaser, Fred, you'll be a Beater—"

"So business as usual?"

"Precisely. Al, I guess you'll be playing Seeker. Rose is about as coordinated on a broom as a Mountain Troll so…."

"Hey!"

"It's your own fault, not mine." James said, dismissing her outburst. "And Scorpius, since you're staying our place for part of the summer I was wondering if you played Quidditch."

"Yeah, I do. Chaser, usually, but you can put me wherever you want."

"Chaser sounds good. We need another one anyway. I'll be Keeper, and maybe we can convince Teddy to get back on a broom." James nudged Victoire and winked, who wrinkled her nose at him and returned to reading her article.

"We'll have enough for two teams then if we can make a few of the adults join in too."

They all discussed Quidditch strategies for a while, even including Rose in the conversation when she pointed out that it would be physically impossible for Fred to attempt half the moves he was considering. The afternoon drifted by until the train pulled into King's Cross. Rose dashed out of the compartment first to say her goodbyes to a few Gryffindor friends.

Upon seeing Teddy waiting for her on the platform – hair as blue as the sky – Victoire felt very much like melting through the glass of the window and running straight over to him. Instead, she settled for walking after James and Fred, who were still deeply engrossed in the intricacies of the Wronski Feint.

Even as the people on the train grew progressively louder, Scorpius and Albus did nothing but stare at each other.

"So then..." Albus began uncertainly. "You'll be alright for the summer?"

"I should be asking you that." Scorpius returned, earning a nervous little laugh from the boy in front of him.

"Well, I can't get hexed in my own house, can I?"

"I guess not. I'll be seeing you later on, then?"

"Definitely. I can't wait."

He would be counting down the days until July twenty-first. Scorpius hoped he wasn't shaking as much as he thought he was, but he couldn't have been, because Albus didn't comment on it when he pressed his lips to the blond's cheek and let them linger for half a second. One second. Scorpius let his arms slide around the other boy's waist, pulling him close.

"Me neither." Albus's breath tickled his ear.

Once they left the train, everything had to look as it did before. Nothing out of place, nothing seeming strange.

Albus exited first, pushing his trolley and trying his hardest not to blush as he worked his way through the crowds. Scorpius stumbled out maybe a minute and a half after him, but kept zig-zagging as he wheeled his belongings. He had only one of his hands firmly clamped on the handle of the trolley.

The other kept passing over his cheek, right below his eye, not quite believing what had happened. He put on a decent show of normality. All the way home, he was particularly quiet. Draco attributed it to his son's disposition, assuming that he was lost in thoughts about schoolwork.

_Still dedicated to his studies. Excellent, excellent._

July twenty-first. Scorpius did the math in his head. _Thirty-eight days, then. _

Albus had reached the same conclusion as he sat between his two siblings in their parents' car. He met their questions about the schoolyear with basic one-word answers.

"And your friend's coming to visit later on the summer, isn't that right?" Ginny asked.

"Yup."

_Looks like he's been confunded._ James thought, at the rather dazed expression on his brother's face.

While they indulged in their reveries, neither Scorpius nor Albus had realized that someone outside the train had been watching them through the compartment window.

* * *

><p><span>End-notes<span>: ... Apologies for the most predictable cliff-hanger in the universe.

I was thinking about carrying this on for longer, but then I realized "damn, 5500 words is really long."  
>As always, I ask you to drop me a line if you like the way things are going. A lot of people put me on their alerts, which kind of makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.<p>

Until next time, :]

- Vodka


	4. 19 July, 2018

Those Who Cannot Remember, chapter 4: 19 July, 2018

Immediately after awakening, Scorpius set out to complete his daily routine. He grabbed his quill and slashed through another date on his calendar. The month of July was covered in similarly shaped X marks.

_Two more days._

"Scorpius, dear? Could you come here a second?"

Reluctantly, he sped down the carpeted stairs.

"Yes, mother?"

She was sitting at the dining-room table, supervising a sprightly house elf as she cooked their breakfast. Draco sat beside her, head lost behind the Daily Prophet.

"Your father is quite proud of your initiative, but he thinks that letting you sit in your room reading all month is tantamount to abuse. Later on today, he's having a few friends over. You know, the usual bunch, and they're all bringing their children. Why don't you go into the backyard and hang out with them once they get here?"

"Wait, who's coming over, exactly?"

Draco looked up from his paper.

"Just some friends. The Goyles your aunt Daphne, Blaise, Theodore and his son…"

"Nott?"

"Of course. I wasn't aware I knew any other Theodores."

Overwhelming nausea and vertigo. The dining-room, inviting and white, spun before him.

"Scorpius, are you quite all right?"

Astoria ran over to her son and pressed a cool hand to his forehead. "Dear, I don't know if we should have company. He looks rather ill today."

"No, I'm fine. I'm fine." He made the utmost effort to compose himself, refusing to be intimidated by people who hadn't even shown up yet. "What time do you think they'll be here?"

"I should say in three or so hours."

Astoria watched the house-elf slide eggs onto each of their plates. "Mindy, do you think you could start preparing refreshments after I clear the table?"

"Yes mistress!"

"Good, then. That'll give me time to fix my hair. Draco, dear, you need a shave."

He grunted at her in reply.

After two hours and much _d_eliberation_ (What do I wear? Do I greet them at the door, or do I linger out in the yard and pretend they're not there?)_ Scorpius stood in front of his dresser, smoothing down his hair.

Meanwhile, Aria, the Goyle siblings – Gregory, Grantley and Clarisse – and Terrence Nott walked the mile between the Goyle mansion and the less extravagant Greengrass household. They could have gone by floo or even begged their parents to Apparate them, but the boys wanted some time to themselves. Aria and Clarisse had very little say in the matter.

The youngest member of the group bounced around about ten steps in front of the rest of them.

"And their place is so _pretty, _even if it is small.I can't wait to get there. It's been a while since we've seen Scorpius, hasn't it?"

"That it has." Aria agreed.

Grantley said something to the two boys on either side of him that caused them to collapse into a fit of violent snickering. Aria turned and tersely glanced at them.

"And what was that?"

"I was just saying I'm surprised Scorpius is even home at all. I thought he'd be spending his summer elsewhere."

"Yeah, like with his boyfriend!" Gregory put his face in his hands and began laughing harder. "I showed you on the platform, didn't I. Potter! Kissing him!"

"I wish you coulda seen it when Francis and I got 'im in the dungeons. He actually started crying."

"He thought Potter was dead. " Aria informed Terrence. "He thought you'd killed him."

"Wow, really? If he's not smart enough to realize you can't kill anyone with a Stunning spell, he should've done something other than cry all over his body like a girl."

"He carried him all the way to the hospital wing, you prat! Just wondering, but would you do if someone randomly killed your best friend?"

"I imagine something like this."

Terrence knelt upon the pathway, pulled a look of mock concern onto his face. Then, in his highest falsetto, he cried, "No, Grant, you can't be dead. Wake up, Grantley! Wake up!"

He pounded the ground with his fists for good measure, before grinning at Aria.

"There, that what you wanted to hear?"

"Go to hell, Nott."

"Why are you so damn touchy? We were just kidding. Besides, you can't pretend it doesn't bother you."

Aria winced and refused to meet his eyes. Sure, she couldn't understand what on earth would possess Scorpius to forge a friendship with the young Potter, but Terrence was all or nothing. Conceding this one point would mean agreement.

"Let him do what he wants. At any rate, hexing Potter isn't going to make Scorpius any less likely to talk to him. He's going to be angry at you, in fact."

"I don't care what he thinks of me. I'm trying to save him from that creep. Bloody hell, if Potter got him to pick Ravenclaw, there's no telling what else he could do."

* * *

><p>Satisfied with his appearance, and thoroughly engrossed in the letter that had just arrived from Albus, Scorpius sat back down at his desk, quill in hand, drafting a response.<p>

… _It's fine. You don't have to get me anything. This year (like all the others), Mother and Father bought me more things than I know what to do with…_

* * *

><p>The Malfoy get-together started out deceptively well. Astoria, clad in a light cotton sundress, welcomed the guests into her home, offered them seats and immediately lapsed into small talk with her sister.<p>

Early on, Draco had Mindy bring a few bottles out from the liquor cabinet.

"Can I entice anyone with a drink?"

Scorpius accompanied Clarisse and Aria into the yard, leaving Terrence and the Goyle twins standing around the adults. They hoped one of them would slip and leave one of the bottles of mead or firewhiskey lying around, but Astoria cottoned onto their plans rather quickly. It took a Slytherin to know one.

"Why don't you boys go outside?"

"Nah, we think we'll just stay here. Mr. Malfoy says some really interesting things."

Currently, his face had gone slightly red and he was in the midst of a rant about Ministry politics and the nuances of Goblin ownership. Indeed, the boys did seem to be listening to him with rapt attention. Astoria was no Occlumens. She had no way of knowing that Terrence's eyes were not following her husband's hand movements, but instead the path of the firewhiskey as it was passed and poured into glasses around the room.

"Oh, alright. Enjoy yourselves, then."

She drifted into the kitchen to supervise Mindy.

Scorpius, Aria and Clarisse lay in the grass, which was as neat and manicured as everything else on the property, watching clouds drift across the sky. Hours passed, afternoon lapsed into tangerine evening and the boys were nowhere to be found. Not that anyone outside particularly minded that. A snitch-shaped cloud went by. Aria made a grab for it, tanned arm reaching out in front of her.

"Pity it's not a real one."

Scorpius chuckled.

"So, ready for fourth year?"

"Almost. What about you? Looking forward to your second?"

"Of course. Can't wait to get back to school. Learning all these different things. I thought it'd be interesting when I looked through my textbooks last summer, but I had no idea."

"So you're alright, then?"

"I'm fine. Why does everyone insist on asking me?"

"Because Nott and Mulciber don't know when to quit. When I found out what happened, I wanted to kill them, the assholes"

"Then why do you hang out with them?"

Aria was clearly taken aback by this question.

"I don't know… It's expected of me. Besides, I'm a Slytherin, unlike you. Nobody wants us. Our parents are tainted by the Death Eater rep, even if they weren't actually involved with the Dark Lord. Sometimes I can't stand Nott or the Goyles, or Mulciber, but they're not totally bad. And either way, they're all I have."

"Hey!" Clarisse piped up, brown hair fanned out across the grass.

"I wasn't talking about you. Just your brothers. You're alright, though."

"You don't have to spend all your time with them, you know. You could come to the library, study with me and Albus and Rose. You're smart. Just say you're studying or something."

"No can do. You've seen how they can get. They only deal with this much from me because I'm the one girl who'll give them the time of day. But they could make things bad for me if they wanted. Sorry, Scorpius, but I can't chance it."

She was about to say something else, but at that moment, as if summoned by her words, Grantley strode outside with half a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand and a thoroughly satisfied grin on his face.

"Hey, guys look what we scored!" Terrence and Gregory marched behind him.

"Aren't we just the greatest? Aria, you can cast a refilling charm, right?"

Grantley sat down in the grass beside her, close as possible without being directly on top of the girl. Scorpius was almost sure he saw her left eye twitch slightly before she grinned up at him.

"Most definitely. But I think you forgot something."

"And what would that be?"

"Cups."

"Damn, you're right. Clarisse, go inside and ask Mindy for…." He did a quick headcount. "Five glasses. Unless you want some, too. Then, six."

"Why me?" Clarisse pouted.

"Because Mrs. Malfoy won't notice you as much as the rest of us. Also, you're the only one with a bag big enough to fit the cups in. If any of the adults see you, just pretend you're going to the bathroom."

"Gotcha." She disappeared inside without another word.

"Too easy." He twisted the cap off of the bottle and air-sipped a he amount of its contents down, the taste making his eyes go as wide as saucers.

"You know, if you drink the whole thing, there'll be nothing for me to refill."

"Oh, but it's good." Obviously having been imbued with confidence from the liquor, he put an arm around Aria's shoulders and offered her the bottle. She swigged down some of the amber liquid before refilling it and passing it to Scorpius.

"His birthday was last week. He should get some too."

Murmurs of assent went around. Scorpius gripped the bottle by its neck and surveyed its contents distastefully. It didn't look particularly horrible, but the smell singed his nostrils. Deciding that this was a now or never kind of thing, he tipped the bottle toward his mouth and let some of the liquid slide down his throat.

It was truly the most horrible thing he'd ever tasted. He coughed and sputtered and passed the bottle off to Terrence, who clapped him on the back and laughed at him.

"Not bad, Scorpius. Not bad at all."

When Clarisse returned with the now somewhat useless cups, the five people sitting in the grass were pleasantly intoxicated. Terrence, Grantley and Gregory whooped and hollered and made increasingly improbable boasts about the volume of fourth and fifth year girls they had snogged, while Aria absentmindedly played with the blades of grass and sorely wished she had went inside with Clarisse. The bottle had gone around more times than Scorpius cared to count.

He wished he could stand up. If he were standing, it might be easier to tell up from down.

"Mrs. Malfoy thinks it looks like rain and said we should probably come inside." Clarisse dropped the cups at Grantley's feet.

"Oh, come on, we were just getting started. I don't want to sit there and listen to them talk all night."

Scorpius decided not to point out the hypocrisy of that statement. It wasn't worth it.

"We could go up to my room." He offered unthinkingly, the alcohol having made him outwardly generous. "It's quiet up there."

"Yeah, that'll work."

Gregory and Grantley helped Aria up, while Terrence put the bottle into his jacket.

Scorpius's bedroom was rather spacious, containing a full bookcase that stretched from the floor to the ceiling in one corner, a large bay window that took up nearly half of the adjacent wall, a dresser, a desk, and a comfortable looking bed, which he gingerly sat down upon. Aria and Clarisse plopped down beside him while the boys took seats on the hardwood floor.

"So, where were we?"

"I forgot. Somethin' about that girl who sits behind you in Potions." Gregory answered Grantley's question.

Scorpius ignored the conversation between the three people on the floor and closed his eyes, surrendering to the tingly, buzzing feeling that had taken over his extremities.

Two days, and he would be out of here.

Two days.

He had never been to the Potter home before, but he imagined it had to be nice. People always coming in and out, not the isolation of a house like this one.

"Hey, Scorpius, what're you marking on the calendar?" Grantley asked, as he stood in front of it. "Your birthday's the fifteenth, not the twenty-first."

The blond drifted out of his haze uneasily.

Grantley's eyes fell upon the letter on Scorpius's desk, on top of a Potions textbook. Alcohol made the Goyle sibling even more prying than usual.

"You've been writing to someone?"

"Who's he been writing to?" Terrence eagerly jumped up to read through the pieces of paper that Gregory referred to.

Scorpius was fully and unfortunately awake at that point, struggling to maintain his composure as the two boys invaded his privacy.

"Hey, why don't you put those down and we can drink—"

"Oh look, it's letters from Potter!" Terence ignored the blond and began to narrate in the most plaintively sappy voice that he could manage.

"Dear Scorpius, I was wondering if you wanted anything for your birthday. If you hurry up and tell me, I can have it here by the time you get here on Saturday and…"

"Oho, so that's what's happening on the twenty-first?" Gregory snorted.

"There're more!" Terrence pulled a stack of letters out of the bookcase.

"Merlin's beard, how often do you two write to each other?"

"Guys, stop torturing him and put down his stuff." For the amount of firewhiskey she had drunk, Aria was surprisingly steady as she confronted the red-faced boys in the corner of Scorpius's room.

"Oh, sod off, Ari. I just want to read them. I won't do anything to the love letters from his boyfriend, I swear."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Scorpius protested, attempting to yank the sheet of paper from Terrence's hand.

But the older boy had nearly a foot's worth of advantage in height and merely held it up out of his reach. Scorpius aimed a somewhat desperate kick at his shin and was swiftly knocked to the floor by an elbow to his head that sent him sprawling.

Aria marched over to where he was standing and slapped Terrence clean across the face, so hard that he staggered with the force of the blow. An angry red mark quickly sprung up on his left cheek.

"He's twelve, Nott. What the hell are you playing at, coming into his room, reading his personal mail, and then hitting him in his own house? So disrespectful. I can't believe—"

But whatever she couldn't believe would go unknown.

Terrence grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her roughly into the wall beside the window, nearly ripping one of the sheer curtains that had been pulled back to allow sunlight into the room.

"That's the problem with you girls nowadays. You don't know any respect."

Terrence had her pinned to the wall with his body. Her left arm was twisted behind her back, against the wall. One of his hands held her right arm high above her head, while the other maintained a firm grip on her waist.

"I oughta teach you some."

Gregory, who had been glancing through Scorpius's letters, moved to intervene.

"Terrence, I don't think you should—"

"So then go down and tell them, then. Tell them what's happening. Why don't show them how much firewhiskey you've drunk while you're at it? I'm not going to do anything that bad to her, for the love of Merlin."

Scorpius jumped to his feet and ran at Terrence, who knocked him to the floor again with a jab to the face.

"Grant, hold 'im."

The Goyle sibling did as he was instructed, restraining the skinny blond with ease. Clarisse and Gregory sat on Scorpius's bed, frozen to the spot.

"Good." He muttered, before undoing the first button on Aria's cardigan to reveal the tank top that she was wearing underneath.

The hand that had been on her waist moved higher and ripped open the next few centimeters of her sweater. When she struggled again and spat in his face, he seized her by the throat. Scorpius strained against Grantley's hands.

"You know what? I'm done being nice." Terrence's breath was hot on her ear as he began to shrug out of his jacket.

"And so am I." She twisted her left arm free, wand in hand, and jabbed the tip into his throat.

"Crucio!"

A second later, Terrence was on the floor, writhing in paroxysms of agony as if he had been set on fire. His foot connected with the desk, knocking over a bottle of ink and shattering it.

"Oh god! She's killing me! Grant! Gregory! Help! She's killing me!"

She kept her wand pointed at him, even as she used her free hand to rebutton her cardigan.

"Apologize, Nott. Apologize for being such a pig."

"I'm sorry!" He screamed. "I'm so sorry! Just make it stop!"

She flicked her wand and he went limp, gasping for breath on the floor. His body was slick with sweat. Even as he shivered, Aria continued to glare at him.

The door swung open. Terrence had spelled it locked and cast a rudimentary silencing charm on the room, but his shrieks had evidently broken through. Grantley shoved Scorpius away from him as if he'd been magnetically repelled. Draco Malfoy strode in warily, his wand raised.

"The wards said there'd been an Unforgiveable cast."

His eyes roved around the room. The broken ink bottle, scattered letters, firewhiskey on the bookcase. Scorpius sitting on the bed, bruises and cuts dotting his pale face. Clarisse cowering in the corner. Grantley and Gregory wearing twin expressions of shock, mouths agape. Terrence on the floor, panting. Aria standing above him, hair mussed and sweater misbuttoned, shaking.

"What in the hell's going on here?"

Getting the truth out of them was particularly difficult. About twenty seconds after Draco moved out of the doorway, Clarisse sprinted headlong out of the room, determined to put as much space between herself and Terrence as humanly possible. For the exception of Aria, who calmly explained why she had cruciated the boy on the floor, and how Scorpius's bedroom ended up in a state of general disarray, nobody volunteered any information.

At least until the other parents showed up.

Then, everything came to light easily. Scorpius, who could barely talk straight, told the closest approximation of the truth he could muster, corroborating Aria's story. Grantley and Gregory minimized the roles they had played, instead allowing Terrence to take the fall. By the time it came his turn to account for his actions, he had no legs to stand on.

About eight seconds after Blaise Zabini tried to strangle the Nott, Astoria decided that everything had gone too far and steered Scorpius out of his room, through the hallway, all the way into the master bedroom, where she sat down.

"_I don't care if I go to Azkaban for five hundred years! I'll kill him! I'll kill him!"_

She glanced concernedly at the heated fight taking place a door down, before murmuring a few spells to fix the wounds on her son's face. She handed him a small vial of green liquid to drink.

"It'll counteract the effects of the alcohol." She explained, uncorking it for him.

"It was a terrible idea. I should have realized before all of you got together. Those boys. Utterly despicable… I was almost sure they weren't up to anything good standing around in the house, but I couldn't prove it…" She summoned a pile of clean clothes and a trunk, both of which landed at her feet. "It's better that you don't talk to that bunch at school. I'm happy you're in Ravenclaw, that you have Albus instead of them."

Scorpius was bowled over by his mother's confession, but was far more curious about what the trunk was for.

"Mom, why are you packing? Where are you going?"

"It's you that's going, not me. I contacted Ginny Potter via floo. She said you can stay there. I know you weren't supposed to leave until the twenty-first, but you shouldn't be here at the moment."

She shuddered as she heard someone shout a hex.

"I don't think I can get your textbooks now, since they're in your room, but I'll try to send them when everything calms down. Next week, you'll have to come home so we can go shopping for your school things."

She was clearly harried and close to her breaking point, her world shattered as Scorpius's ink bottle. The lacquer on one of her nails was chipping. She crammed a few more things into the trunk before dropping a small pouch into her handbag.

"I wouldn't want them to think I expect their charity. It's a lot to ask, keeping you there. Children aren't cheap. I'm putting some more gold in your trunk, too. That'll be your pocket money, in case you want a something extra. Maybe a book. And make sure you're respectful, for Merlin's sake."

"But Mother?"

"Yes?"

"What's going to happen to everyone? Aria, Nott, Clarisse and the others?"

"Clarisse? Nothing, I should think. She didn't do anything but perhaps that's the problem. I'm inclined to think the same for the other Goyles. They can just blame it on Terrence. And as for him? I wish they'd let Blaise have at him, but that's just me. And Aria…." She sighed and snapped the trunk shut, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Aria?"

"She cast a heavy bit of Dark magic. Crucio is an Unforgivable Curse, and using it can put you in Azkaban for life. Given the circumstances, I don't think she'll get anything nearly as serious, but it's all so complicated…"

She kissed his temple and charmed his trunk so that it drifted lazily down the stairs.

"Now come along, so I can see you off."

* * *

><p>In the sitting room of the Potter home, Ginny sat beside Albus, listening to the radio and idly fluffing his hair.<p>

"Why'd you wake me up, Mom?"

"Shh."

The Weird Sisters played in the background. In the absence of further stimulation, Albus went back to sleep in minutes, his head hitting the back of the sofa with a soft thud. Ginny mulled over the brief conversation she had just had with Astoria. Something had happened at her house during a gathering, and Scorpius had somehow been caught in the crossfire.

"…_be better if he were out of the house for the time being. I know we're not on the best of terms, but…"_

"_It'll be no problem keeping him here, really. It's only two days earlier. I'm hoping he'll keep Albus out of trouble." _

_Ginny thought of the diary that had been slipped to her by Lucius Malfoy nearly a lifetime ago. Whatever the Ministry said, it was highly unlikely that their searches had purged the Malfoy home of all the questionable artifacts they might have hidden. Perhaps Scorpius had accidentally happened upon one of those? _

_The theory fit. _

That had been an hour and a half ago. Albus continued to snore. Ginny's mind went back to her theory. The minutes passed.

_Maybe I should call Harry and ask him to investigate…_

He was on duty, probably doing something infinitely more important. She spared a glance at the clock and moved to change the radio station before some commotion in the floo startled her.

"I apologize for the lateness of the hour."

Astoria stepped out of the grate. Scorpius spat out a mouthful of ash.

Ginny smiled at the stiffly formal woman.

"It's really nothing, I assure you. Maybe you'd like to come to the kitchen and I'll make you a cup of tea?"

"Oh no, I couldn't. I really—"

"I insist. You look terribly tired. Scorpius, would you like some tea, too?"

"No thank you."

The women spared glances at their sons on their way to the kitchen. Scorpius standing in front of the fireplace, Albus on the couch mouth wide open enough to catch flies.

"Nobody told me you were coming."

"Mother only told me I was going an hour ago."

After Albus had gotten over his initial shock, Scorpius still seemed worried, hands quivering slightly as he recounted the tale of his birthday.

"If there's something that's bothering you, you can tell me."

Scorpius rapidly babbled the details of the past twelve hours, figuring that they would somehow be less horrible if he got through them as quickly as possible. He stopped only to kiss his mother goodnight once she got ready to return home. When he was finished talking, and marginally calmer, Albus put an arm around him.

"It'll be okay. It's fine. You're fine. So's Aria. I'll hex them all. I'll get every single one."

They fell asleep on the couch and didn't stir until midday, when James bolted down the stairs and demanded to know how people had been allowed to come over without his being informed.

* * *

><p>End Notes: Chapter 5 should be up in a bit as well.<p> 


	5. 06 August, 2018 to 01 September, 2019

Those Who Cannot Remember, chapter 5: 06 August 2018 to 01 September 2019

_06 August 2018_

James and Fred and the throngs of freckled grinning cousins were on their broomsticks, zooming through hedges. Scorpius had been whacked in the leg with a bludger and sat at the dining room table, looking over his History of Magic homework.

Albus was in his bedroom, desperately searching for his favorite quill.

"_You want me to look with you?"_

"_No, you stay and rest."_

_Scorpius shot the Potter a sour look. He'd sprained his ankle, and Mrs. Potter had mended it in a second. It wasn't as if he'd been hexed into a wall and gotten a concussion._

"_And do your homework."Albus playfully added, before disappearing up the stairs. _

Ginny Potter came up to him with a plate of lunch and set it down before him.

"Alright there?"

He nodded with what he hoped was gratitude and picked at the chicken on his plate. Ginny continued to look at him concernedly.

"What?" He thought to ask, before meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes. That look in her eyes. The same and different.

Albus was his father in miniature form, Scorpius thought. The only things he was missing were a pair of awkward glasses and a lightning-bolt scar. Albus was merely a younger version of something that had been created before. But his movements, his mannerisms, his occasional fiery outburst –

"If Nott or the Goyles ever try to do anything to you or anyone again..."

—they were all Ginny. At the Malfoy's continued silence, she bustled away to go watch the boys and ensure that they didn't kill anyone, but not before saying one last thing to him.

"If there's anything that's bothering you, you can tell me."

What could he tell her? That he missed his parents terribly? That he was worried that one of the few people to ever jump to his defense was now sitting in Azkaban?

He just shook his head at her and distracted himself with his essay until she slipped outside, letting the screen door click shut.

* * *

><p><em>22 – 27 August 2018<em>

If Ginny had thought Scorpius would keep her youngest son in his books and out of trouble, she was somewhat mistaken. Albus and Scorpius read and practiced charms, sure. All too frequently, she saw her son stumble out of the guest bedroom at five in the morning, covered in ink, and pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. However, James and Fred had also taken on the younger boys as disciples, eager to teach them all of things they'd learned at Hogwarts through trial and error.

"It's easy enough to get Filch off your back. You saw the Decoy Detonators at my dad's shop, yes?"

"Right."

"So just drop one as soon as you see Mrs. Norris and then run like hell. They'll both be too focused on it to catch you."

A few days later, Albus and Scorpius found James in his bedroom, entranced by a tattered piece of parchment lying on his bed. He tapped the parchment with his wand.

"What's that?" The blond asked.

"Dunno. Dad had it hidden in his room along with an old textbook. Hides the weirdest things, I tell you. Wouldn't think anything of it, but he'd concealed it well. And you know how Uncle Ron always drinks too much at parties? Well, once during Christmas, he mentioned some kind of map of Hogwarts that they'd used back when they were at school. And it got me to thinking, what if this is it?"

It was clear he'd been burning to tell someone this.

"Specialis Revelio." Scorpius muttered, wand extended.

"Won't work. I already tried that. Tried everything."

"Maybe it has a password?" Albus asked, coming up to the bed to examine the paper.

"Yeah, but if it's a password, I haven't a clue what it is."

James sulked, refolded the parchment, and sank down onto his bed, utterly dejected. It was clear he'd thought he'd struck gold.

"I'll ask Fred about it next time he visits. At any rate, Scorpius, d'you want this thing? I think it's N.E.W.T level and I'll be damned if I ever go that far with Potions. Albus told me how all your old books are still at your mother's."

James held up the aforementioned textbook, which looked as ancient and battered as the sheet of parchment. The binding was in shambles and the cover, which couldn't have always been that dingy shade of grey, was nearly falling off. If he squinted, Scorpius could make out the title and author, _Advanced Potion-Making, by Libatius Borage._

He was certain he didn't have a copy of this at his house.

_What would a new one cost? Fourteen, fifteen Galleons?_ Judging from the copyright year, 1973, it was bound to be out of date, but it could still be potentially useful.

"You could consider it a heavily belated birthday gift."

"Yeah, I'll take it. Thanks, James."

* * *

><p><em>01 September 2018<em>

He and Albus were still reading through it on the train, recognizing easily that the little notes in the margins had to have been made by a genius.

"I wish she'd been in our year, the girl who wrote all this." Albus mused, earning a nod of agreement from Scorpius. They'd noticed that the book was "Property of the Half-Blood Prince", but reached a mutual conclusion that no boy could possibly write in cursive so neat and looping.

"Probably smarter than Rose and only half as annoying." Scorpius put his head on his friend's shoulder so he could see the exceedingly small textbook print better. Albus shifted around to make him comfortable.

James snorted a laugh at that jibe. As the train drew further through the countryside, he sucked on a sugar quill and came up with last-minute answers to the Transfiguration essay on his lap. Leave it to McGonagall to assign a foot of parchment on a topic they barely understood.

"How much more do you have to go?"

Scorpius was reading over his own essay for Transfiguration. With more than a bit of irritation, James saw that the blond had managed eighteen inches, in much tinier handwriting. A second year, at that.

_Bloody Ravenclaws._

"Four inches, so I'm going to waffle on about Prewett's Theorem for another paragraph or so. You really should learn how to do this, Scorpius. It'd save you so much trouble."

"I don't know. Last time I checked, there wasn't an O.W.L level class for BSing."

"There should be. It's an important skill."

Fred and Rose came into the compartment an hour later, with enough boxes of Chocolate Frogs to drown a small child.

"This one's brilliant at chess, I tell you." Fred pointed to the redhead in front of him, who blushed modestly.

"Not really."

He ignored her and waved a small, jingling bag in front of James's face.

"And there's more where that came from. We made thirty Galleons!"

"You told me you gave Jordan back his gold!" Rose shouted, snatching the bag from him. Fred rolled his eyes and easily pried it out of her hand.

"Nah, where'd the fun in that be? He'll win it from me later, I promise."

Maybe an hour after Fred had coaxed Rose into acknowledging his existence again, someone knocked at the door of their compartment. Upon noting the long plait of black hair and the green Slytherin tie, he brandished his wand.

"Oh hell no."

He wrenched the door open and aimed his wand at her face. Aria sighed and raised her hands in surrender, dropping her own wand to the floor.

"Listen, I'm not going to curse you. I just need somewhere to sit."

"Oh yeah? And why should I believe you? I haven't forgotten what you did to me in second year."

She had drawn herself up to her full height, her expression making it crystal clear that she could and would snap that twig in half in nothing flat. In that moment, it looked as if he would beat her to the draw as far as hurling hexes were concerned.

"Put down your bloody wand!" Albus and Scorpius shouted at the same time, shocking the Gryffindor into compliance.

Once James had been restrained by Fred, and Aria by Scorpius, the tension in the compartment began to dissolve. But not by much.

"So much for alleviating house rivalries." Rose commented, after the two fourth years embarked on what resembled a glaring contest.

* * *

><p><em>05 November 2018<em>

Scorpius, who for so long had desired companionship the way a man in a desert craves water, had no idea what to do with the people who waved to him the hallways. Since June, since Albus had been released from the hospital wing, they were always around. The young Malfoy was now okay in their books.

He was loath to talk to any of them. So he and Albus found themselves slipping into back into their old routine as easily as a comfortable pair of shoes.

"Library?"

"Way ahead of you."

They twisted down the spiral staircase, past _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure _and out the door.

Inevitably, they ended up sleeping next to each other after they wasted half the night talking, reading, and practicing spells. It was too much effort to return to one's own bed at half past three in the morning.

Scorpius's sheets were permanently covered in blotted inkstains from his friend's homework. Not that he minded much. The fact that Albus hogged the blankets with winter fast approaching was a much bigger issue.

They spoke of this to no one, though. People had this idiotic tendency to misconstrue the most innocent of gestures. If anyone called Scorpius a pouf ever again for the rest of his life, they would find themselves hexed out the window at the speed of sound.

* * *

><p><em>23 January 2019<em>

"You haven't been studying for History of Magic, have you?" Rose clucked, upon seeing Albus's latest test grade.

"Lay off him, Rose. It's History of Magic. I don't think anyone studies for that."

"I do."

"You might be the only one." Scorpius curtly replied, turning from Rose so he could continue reading. "I would wish someone'd kill Binns before the twenty-eighth, but he's already dead, so…"

Albus laughed at him, while Rose got up from the table and marched out of the library in a huff. Midterms were coming up, and she was not about to listen to their stupid jokes all night. Let them both fail History of Magic. That would serve the two of them right.

Somehow, they managed to pull through with the lowest possible passing grades. Rose lorded her Outstanding over them triumphantly.

* * *

><p><em>14 February 2019<em>

It was during one of their study marathons that they agreed there was no such thing as Dark magic. Even the most violent curses had some kind of legitimate use, if they could be properly cast. Intent was indisputably key, and it should be the deciding factor rather than the spell itself.

Albus thought it such a novel idea that he scrawled it down on a scrap of parchment.

On their way back to the common room, they discovered a familiar person in the hallway, looking as if he were being suffocated by the mouth of a Hufflepuff girl.

When Rose had mentioned to Albus in passing that his brother had become quite the lady killer, she clearly wasn't kidding. Although it looked more as if the lady in question were killing him.

Naturally, the two boys said nothing and ran all the way to the Ravenclaw dormitories, thoroughly disturbed.

"If I ever do that with a girl, kill me, Albus."

"Likewise. I think I'm going to be sick."

He was nearly the same shade of green as his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>28 February 2019<em>

"I finally got it to work!" James announced one morning, nearly startling Albus out of his seat at the breakfast table. Scorpius, who until then, had been wholly focused on the latest letter from his father, looked up.

"Got what to work?"

"The map. Every time I'd get close to the password, it'd drop all these hints. But it's bloody brilliant. Whoever created it is a god. When you say the magic words, you can see everyone in Hogwarts, where they are, where they're going – if they're moving… It tells you everything."

It was highly insignificant that James had unwittingly scarred the both of them for life merely two weeks prior.

"I have to see this." Albus breathed.

"Patience, midget. I'll show you guys tonight in the library."

The day, which usually picked up speed after History of Magic, went by as sluggishly as possible. Each minute felt like an hour. By the time classes were over, Albus could have sworn he'd been through an entire week of school.

At half past eight, Scorpius and Albus made for their usual corner of the library, which all but had their names on the seats. Few ventured there since it was a bit too close to the restricted section for comfort and Madam Pince grew exponentially more horrible the closer one got to those verboten rows of books. But that added to the spot's allure for the boys. Neither of them was particularly scared of the old hag anymore, and she had developed a grudging respect for the only two people who possibly clocked more daily hours in the library than she.

James was already waiting for them, leaning against one of the shelves with his hands in his pockets. When he saw them, he gestured them over to a table, sat down and muttered "Lumos".

This was different.

James was kinetic and reactionary. He was the chattering ball of motion, a blur on a broomstick, who sped to class five minutes late so often that teachers quipped he operated on "James time". He could barely sit still long enough to eat breakfast. With the parchment in his hands, he was slow and chillingly serious, nearly reverent.

"This is a very tricky thing."

"So then what's it do?" Albus asked.

"Watch."

James tapped the sheet of parchment with his wand and then intoned, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map sprung to life, flashing a greeting message before displaying a moving map of Hogwarts and all its inhabitants.

"Holy shit."

"The possibilities are endless. You could make sure Filch and everyone was somewhere else and meet up with a girl if you wanted."

Albus and Scorpius exchanged glances . The events of Valentine's day hadn't been wholly forgotten.

"Dad told me about some of the things he did at school and I'd think he was making it up. But he had this, right? And a cloak of invisibility. It's mad that he ever got caught doing anything. I could go out and duel Slytherins. And the best part is, I'd have one-up on them because I know where they are."

"Wouldn't that technically be cheating?" Scorpius pointed out.

"They're Slytherins. If they could stack the odds against me, I'm sure they would."

"I can't disagree."

"But does the map just stay like that? What if someone else finds it?" Albus asked. James grinned as if he'd been waiting for that question.

"When you're done, you just tap it with your wand again and say 'Mischief managed'. Then it goes blank, and nobody can read it unless they know the words to open it. And so far, the only people who do are me, you two, Fred, and Rose."

Scorpius raised his eyebrows.

"That's actually quite a few people, James."

"Hardly. Rose's more likely to confiscate it than tell anyone about it. Fred and I aren't about to reveal our secrets, and you two know how to keep your mouth shut, yes?"

"Yes." Albus and Scorpius replied.

"Great, then."

James poked his the sheet of parchment with the tip of his wand.

"Mischief managed!"

* * *

><p><em>06 April 2019<em>

"Happy birthday, Al." Scorpius whispered, depositing a small package into his friend's hands as he wiped the last bits of sand from his eyes. It was six in the morning, well before any normal human being had to be awake. "It's a shame your birthday's not during vacation like mine. Otherwise, I might've been able to get you something better."

Awareness came to him in stages. Once he was sufficiently awake, Albus gently removed the tissue paper wrapping, folding it up and laying it on the bed next to his Charms notebook. He always unwrapped gifts slowly, the way he mixed ingredients in Potions class. Methodically. If he did it carefully, he wouldn't risk ripping the paper or damaging whatever Scorpius had gotten him.

It was a picture, set in a green frame. Two boys dressed in their best clothing, standing with their arms around each other's shoulders, laughing up at him, even Scorpius who rarely smiled in photographs.

Albus flushed. They were both so undeniably_ happy._

"You remember how Mother took this on Christmas Eve? I thought you'd like it."

* * *

><p><em>12 May 2019<em>

Choosing classes for third year was supposed to be difficult, but for the two of them, it was simple enough. They decided to continue with all of their core subjects, even History of Magic, much to Scorpius's chagrin.

"Why can't I just drop the damn –"

"You can't until after fifth year, and I'd only do it if I failed the O.W.L."

Scorpius asked himself seriously whether failing a major exam was worth the prospect of never having to take Binns's class ever again. He'd have two years to decide on that one.

Then, they divided up the electives evenly amongst themselves.

"We can teach each other the material for the classes we're not in," an incoherent, half-asleep Albus explained at two in the morning, as he underlined entries in the course catalog. The blond's eyes crossed as he listened to that statement, though he understood.

"Whatever. As long as I don't have to take Divination."

By the time they had their schedules completely figured out, it was close to five in the morning. The first rays of dawn streamed through the windows of Ravenclaw Tower.

* * *

><p><em>07 June 2019<em>

Exams were over once again, giving rise to the lazy sunny week before the Hogwarts Express brought students back to their families. It was infinitely better to be outside than in the stuffy library today, especially with all the sixth years studying for their last round of exams. The air in there positively reeked of desperation.

In the grassy juncture between the castle and the Forbidden Forest, Rose napped off the all-nighter she'd pulled to study for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"_But I'm not tired. I'm not—"_

"_You're exhausted. Go to sleep. I'll even watch your bag."_

_Rose stared suspiciously at Scorpius._

"_Why're you being so nice?"_

"_Because if you don't sleep, you'll be even crankier than usual, and if someone steals your bag, you'll be even crankier than usual. That's no good. I don't feel like being hexed today."_

Scorpius and Albus lay shoulder-to-shoulder in the grass, talking about absolutely nothing.

"I had to laugh. Dad never realized Lily and I stole his broom until then…"

The sky was a nearly neon shade of blue. Their robes were in a heap a foot away from their feet. It was a bit too warm for them.

Conversation veered back to James, and the fact that he'd lost Gryffindor 15 points for being discovered at half past two with his girlfriend in an empty hallway. The map told you where teachers were, but only if you were undistracted enough to spare a look at it.

"McGonagall was livid, about to dock another twenty."

Albus had propped himself up with his elbow.

"Why do people do that, anyway?" Scorpius finally asked.

"What, sneak out of bed and walk around the school?"

"No. I mean, James is always with some girl. Talking to her. Kissing her. Why? Seems like a grand waste of time to me."

"Apparently it's supposed to be awesome. Remember? The two greatest things on Earth are girls and Quidditch."

"Pfft." Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"I know what you mean. Doesn't seem worth losing points over, especially with the end of the year so close."

He was so close, Scorpius thought, half a foot away. Funny how that never seemed to bother him otherwise, but now their proximity was nerve wracking. Scorpius noticed that the smaller boy's eyes weren't actually green all the way through. People took it for granted that eyes were a uniform color, but there was definitely a ring of hazel-almost-brown around Albus's pupils.

Albus had raised an interesting question. Was it worth it? Neither boy was the type to leave anything unanswered. Scorpius thought carefully before opening his mouth.

"I wonder…"

"Wonder what?"

"If it's worth it. Kissing, I mean. It looks incredibly disgusting, but it has to be different if you're the one doing it, and not just watching it."

Albus's reaction was completely unexpected.

"Maybe we should investigate."

Before Scorpius could raise any halfhearted objections, Albus had jumped to his feet and pulled the blonde behind a tree where he was sure nobody could see them. Except for perhaps Rose.

"Now what?"

Scorpius became impatient easily. Albus did nothing to make matters easier. All he did was stand there, looking extremely lost. It was clear he had never done anything of this sort before, and whatever amount of courage that spurred him to come this far had sublimated into the afternoon air.

"I… uh…"

This was growing painfully boring. Scorpius cupped Albus's face in one hand, determined to put his blasted curiosity to rest. Albus closed his eyes and leaned into him, kissing him gently on the mouth. Scorpius elected not to pull away, instead acclimating himself to the feel of the boy's lips on his.

This was decidedly not incredibly disgusting. It was almost nice, although not quite worth losing house points over.

Rose screamed. The boys jolted apart.

Even beet-red and caught by surprise, Albus was quick to the draw. He had an arm around the screaming Gryffindor before she was even fully awake.

"It was horrible! I dreamed I'd failed everything! A sixty for Charms!"

Scorpius knelt before her.

"That's impossible. If you got a sixty, then we all got twos."

This was the second approaching-nice thing he'd said to her in less than three hours. Something had to be up.

* * *

><p><em>Summer, 2019<em>

They didn't mention the incident after that. Like what had happened on the train at the end of their first year, they locked it away and waited until the ideal time to raise the topic. But it never came. It always seemed far too awkward and unreal to speak of.

Through awkward pauses and long, lingering stares, Qudditch matches in the yard, Rose's screaming about the summer homework that Fred had mistakenly vanished, misplaced pets, yards that refused to stay de-gnomed for any significant period of time, back-to-school letters, and trips to Diagon Alley where Lily had to stop and look at _everything, _because for once, they were actually shopping for _her _school supplies, they said absolutely nothing.

Not a single word.

* * *

><p><em>01 September 2019<em>

"It's faulty logic, Rose, saying that I'll turn into the Dark Lord just because I don't like the amount of power that Muggles have." Scorpius retorted sourly, glaring at the girl sitting across from him.

"What?"

"You're assuming that I'm going to go further down a path, just because I've taken a possible step in that direction. Faulty logic. A fallacy."

"The slippery slope fallacy, more specifically." Albus said from behind his Arithmancy textbook. "Besides, the Death Eaters weren't the first people to support Wizards' rights. Just the most recent, and the most extreme. But all they did was use their beliefs as a front for Pureblood supremacy."

James saw the gears turning in Rose's head as she scrabbled for a response. He, however, could do nothing but sit on the train and stare at them wordlessly. He wondered just where they'd be in five years. Sometimes, it was quite hard to believe that Albus and Scorpius were only thirteen, two years younger than he.

"_Oi! Scorpius! That was my chocolate frog! Get your own!"_

And other times, it wasn't.

* * *

><p>Professor McGonagall gingerly placed the old, battered hat on Lily's head. Everyone in the Great Hall turned to look at her. Albus held his breath.<p>

Lily was typically a female analogue of James, jovial, exuberant, somewhat apathetic toward the rules. Her mother had forbidden her to get on a real broomstick until she turned ten, but there she'd been, seven and a half, about a hundred and fifty feet in the air on her eldest brother's Nimbus.

Albus could still hear his mother's shrieks in his ears.

The entire train ride up to Hogwarts, she'd been withdrawn. At Hugo's musings on the houses they'd be sorted into, she'd turned away and stared out the window. Albus and Scorpius had made halfway successful attempts to cheer her up.

"_What's the worst that could happen? Even if you end up in Slytherin, I know a few really good girls there who'll keep track of you. You're smart, right? If you get Ravenclaw, you'll be with me and Albus. Hufflepuff wouldn't be bad either. One of Professor Longbottom's children is there, and they're generally a really laid back bunch. And as for Gryffindor, well, James and Rose are in there, but people have survived worse, right?"_

"_Hey!"_

"_Sorry, Rose. Couldn't resist."_

_Scorpius handed the youngest Potter a handkerchief and earned a wet smile from her in return. A definite blush had crept up across her freckled face. _

Across two tables, James glanced at his sister and then to his little brother. Scorpius caught the words _awfully long time_ being mouthed. Another forty seconds passed.

"Hufflepuff!"

She handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall with something like relief, and sped off to join her cheering housemates. On her way, she had to pass the Ravenclaw table. Albus and Scorpius made sure to high five her.

Third year had officially begun.

* * *

><p>End-notes: I'm planning to skip through most of third year because I want to get on with the damn story.<br>Just a warning for Chapter 7.

Also, many thanks and invisible cupcakes to everyone who added me to their alerts / dropped a review. You guys are so awesome.


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